Oh, I am sorry, has it really been eight months since I added something new? My excuse is going to be that any new posts were actually filling in the gaps in this record that I missed following illnesses and time in hospital. I have to admit that the optics aren't good. So much has happened, but I'm just going to start off with yesterday.
I've been enjoying the YouTube videos of a young man who glorifies in the name "August Radio Project". I'm certainly not going to throw stones on account of a name! I recommend you look him up on YouTube. Being a curmudgeonly cynic I found his youthful chirpiness and optimism took a little getting used to, but what he does is great and often very useful. We've had a few interactions on his channel where we've shared a few busking tales. For a while now he has been making videos of his experience of busking in different towns. We've been to some of the same places. Last week he spent a day in Bury St Edmunds. It's less than fifty miles from me and has been on my list for a while so yesterday I went to Bury!
I like Bury. It has history, a mix of old and new architecture and it has the Apex, the superb concert hall and performance venue. I've seen a few favourites there over the years. It is right in the town centre and easy to find. It also has a car park nearby and parking is free after 3pm on Tuesdays. I didn't know how to find the spots that August Radio Project played, so I parked in my usual place, paid for parking up to 3pm and went to explore. An obviously good place to start was The Arc centre, the modern pedestrianised shopping precinct where The Apex is housed. It was a really bitterly cold day so I thought some protection from any breeze would be helpful as would the acoustics of being surrounded by buildings. It looked too good to be true, so I thought I'd better just check that this spot was okay. I went into the Apex and asked one of the box office staff if she knew whether busking was permitted outside. She told me I needed to speak to the Arc Centre management and gave me directions, just a few minutes walk away. The anonymous locked door, guarded by entry phone gained me access to the building and I eventually found the office on the first floor. A smiling man greeted me and I asked him about busking. He said it came the within the purview of the colleague sitting at an adjacent desk. She said that approval for street performances is normally obtained from the centre manager who wasn't there (what is it about shopping centre managers?), but if I planned to accept money from people passing by then permission would not be granted anyway. They do however allow charities to raise money ... I asked whether trying to earn money to buy my week's organic vegetables on Friday came under charity, but she looked rather doubtful. Never mind, there are plenty of other places in the town, so we smiled our farewells and I thanked them for their help.
Most of Bury town centre seems to be on a hill. This is not good news, since it quickly becomes a strain playing drums on a slope and the wheel locks on my trolley no longer work. As I walked through the town the busiest place seemed to be Abbeygate Street, but finding a suitable flat space with a wide enough pavement was more of a challenge than I anticipated. One place that did look possible was occupied by a couple of folding stools and a bag. Atop one of the stools was a 48-bass accordion. There was however, no sign of an owner. I could only think that he or she had disappeared into somewhere warm for a coffee or lunch. It was very cold that day. I walked a bit further on and scoped out another couple of options before I arrived at the bottom of the hill with a nice paved space opposite the gate to the Abbey gardens. Okay, this was going to be my second choice if the invisible accordionist's spot was still unavailable by the time I returned with my instruments. There seemed to be a bit of footfall going to and from the gardens.
Returning with my loaded trolley I heard the sound of an accordion playing. The musician had finally appeared. Coins were piled up on one of the stools in front of him, so I added a couple of pound coins to it, but he was too engrossed in his music to acknowledge me or my tip, so I moved on. I did not want to set up while I could still hear him and I ended up at the bottom of the hill. Naturally, the steady flow of pedestrians had come to a complete halt. Still, I was here now, so I found a relatively level area of pavement and set up.
People walked by and glanced over, but four songs in and I had not received a single tip. Partway through my fifth song a pair of Jehovah's Witnesses turned up with one of their folding display boards on a trolley. They thought the best place to set up would be between me and the main thoroughfare for passing pedestrians. From that point on, no one even gave me a second glance as I was obviously connected with the Jehovah Squad! Clearly they were not familiar with West Suffolk's advice for street performers. I persisted for a couple more songs and even launched into a particularly jolly rendition of "Damn You, Enchiladas" in the hope that the chorus might make them think better of their choice of pitch, but to no avail.
By this time I was not only cold, but also several quid down because of the incidental costs of fuel and parking. Historic Bury was proving to be a bit of a damp (and very cold) squib. I decided to pack up and cut my losses. At least once I was back on the road I could start to get warm again. As I leaned into my trolley to get the kit back up the hill I suddenly was overcome by feeling very strongly that another attempt was required. At least I ought to try to earn back my car fee!
I turned right at the top of the street, having passed the once again abandoned accordion spot with the sad-looking accordion perched on its stool keeping maintaining vigil. After a couple of minutes I found myself in the vicinity of Cornhill which has a paved pedestrian area. I set up outside Sports Direct and without much optimism I began "For Pete's Sake", which was pretty much how I was feeling. However, something strange happened. The whole vibe was different here and people smiled as they went by. Some stopped to talk and a few dropped some coins into the hat. There were two incidents of note. Several people had commented on my bare feet on such a cold day. Two women asked if I needed some socks. I explained that I had more socks than storage and that I preferred to play my drums barefoot. They didn't look convinced, but dropped coins in the hat and accepted my word. Another woman quizzed me about the wisdom of being barefoot in such cold weather, but couldn't leave it at that. She dropped a coin in the hat and as she moved round to my left side she bent down and gently clasped my foot while I was playing. That was weird! Relating the story since then friends have warned me about foot-fetishists. I'm just an innocent old busker. In my mind she was perhaps a nurse whose professional interest in my welfare had kicked in and she couldn't resist checking that there was sufficient circulation in this poor old hippy's body!
After a while there was an almost steady stream of tips from folk passing by. I sang a nursery rhyme for some small children and once again a dog, this time a juvenile spaniel cross, dragged its owner to a halt and stared. Something I'd never really noticed before taking to street performances is the number of animals, specially dogs, that are curious about music. The puppy stared at me transfixed. The owner stared at the puppy transfixed ... almost as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. When I finished the song the man approached me and explained. He plays guitar at home, but he cannot play when the puppy is in the room because it becomes aggressive and bites him. He thought the puppy had an aversion to music. He was genuinely astonished that the dog was so engrossed and docile while I was playing. He thanked me effusively and dropped couple of extra coins in the hat as a special thank-you.
Yes, my afternoon in Bury St Edmunds was not without incident.
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