Busking Day 3

I had a feeling today would be good. The last few days were overcast and raining. Then comes the weekend, the sun pokes its head back out, and along with it comes the crowds. Folks seemed to be in good spirits and feeling generous. I get lots of compliments as they walk by. Everyone talks about the cool acoustics in the tunnel. It’s a relatively low ceiling and supposedly there are sweet spots where the reverb sounds really good. A lot of beautiful females were smiling at me. I smile back. Without the guitar I’m just another of the eight million in this vast seat of movement, but with a guitar and stool, some country, folk, and blues, I’m actually someone of at least a little importance. After spending most of the past two years in Oregon in a relatively solitary existence, it’s a good feeling to have. It’s hard to believe that for the past five years I worked as an electrician. A few months ago I would've been a top a ladder fumbling with electrical wires, maybe a rotohammer putting in anchors. Now I’m sitting in Central Park amongst the crowds with the postcard view of the pond and the trees and the high-rise buildings of Manhattan. I couldn’t picture myself being anywhere else.