Day 1
Today marks my first foray into the world of busking. I used to play for the mentally ill and junkies in the parks of Portland, Oregon and I’ve played in random towns on benches while watching the trains pass by, but never for money. So here I am in New York, no job, and with nothing better to do, playing my guitar in a tunnel in Central Park. I have no stool, no guitar strap, and I’m sitting on the ground singing my tunes. Kids seem to like the music. They’re a bit enamored by the sight and sound of the guitar. Some are dragged away by their parents. Looking back in turkey-neck fashion they watch me with innocent curiosity and then disappear. Others are given a dollar or some quarters by their parents. Some even dance for me, which I get a kick out of. After two hours my ass is a bit sore and the mosquitoes are starting to feast on me so I call it quits. Twenty-five bucks in a couple hours. I do the math. Maybe I can make a career out of this. I laugh at the idea and then put the guitar on my back and follow the heard down into the subway.
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