Two University of Arizona music students asked me what my goal for the 365-Day Busking Project was. "Well, to busk every day for 365 days," I replied. And a little girl acted exasperated when I merely fiddled a familiar number. "You should sing!" she admonished me after a face-palm. From the mouths of babes. She'll hear my voice on my CD; the one her dad paid me double what I asked him for. Day Three's non-monetary tips also included both an apple pie-flavored L'Arabar and a chocolate mint protein thing.
Never be in a hurry to leave, we buskers know. Quite often as I pack up, a final tipper arrives who perhaps heard me several minutes earlier on their way past. Day Three's last gesture of generosity came by way of a novice fiddler, freshly back in lessons, who appeared bearing a $10 gift card good for use inside the store I play outside of. I silenced his apologies for not carrying cash with "This is better than cash," and then let him try my instrument. He gave me a few notes of Good King Wenceslas.
On the radio back in the car, along my way to my "job" job with special children, Terry Gross was interviewing the voice actors of The Simpsons: folks who, like me, make people smile for a living.
And then, said he, will come Year Two and this is how I want to spend the rest of my life. It makes me so happy ;9
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