Saturday, July 27 2013

            I was feeling pretty under the weather today and therefore did not get to go out and play in it despite it’s being perfect for busking-sunny but not so stifling that people get to feeling uncomfortable and crabby and therefore less willing to part with their money. Still I’m feeling a little guilty about my neglect of this blog, there are so many people who make my busking incredible and it’s not entirely fair for me to let their stories blend together and eventually slip away once I start cramming my head full of poems and junk again come September. So I will share with you tonight an old(ish) story from one of my first days back out in Gastown this summer. I was just finishing up a set between this schmancy restobar/liquor store called Steamworks and the Roger’s Chocolate’s store (i.e. a tourist’s paradise) when I was approached by a frail old man wearing a blue and red windbreaker. He waited for me to finish playing before asking me where I’d been all year and I explained that I go to school in Montreal and just come home to Vancouver to busk during the summers an see my family. I didn’t actually recognize him until he addressed me as “sister” telling me that my music always “picked him up” no matter what kind of mood he was in. His phrasing jogged my memory and I remembered meeting him a few times last summer and having him accompany me with his unbelievable harmonica playing. We reintroduced ourselves and he told me his name was Gordy “though most people ‘round here call me the harmonica man.” He asked me if I’d mind if he played with me for a while and I said of course not then we rocked out hard to a medley of songs in A minor .The harmonica man then wandered off for a few minutes and returned with a five dollar bill which he placed in my case explaining that he had run into a man who usually gives him money when he’s panhandling and told him how good my music and that I was a “good girl, just come back from studying in Montréal” and he had given him the five to pass along to me. Now if that doesn’t boost your faith in the kindness of strangers I don’t know what will.