The Buskers

Good Morning,

I hope the weather is beautiful where you are. This past weekend was quite a treat in Lawrence.

Not once did I have to worry about the health hazards of entering a car and inhaling the fumes of incinerating water bottles. wohoo! We had what I'm hoping was a fall preview...temps in the high 70's, blue skies and lots of sunshine.

To celebrate, we made our way downtown in search of fresh vegetables and a Farmer's Market. Instead we found...the Busker Festival!

What is the Busker Festival? Well, to be honest I still really don't know (I decided to use my wheelchair so mostly observed my feet) but there were small gatherings of hip looking people stopping at various places along the sidewalk.

My research suggests what we rolled and strolled upon were Buskers...

(http://www.lawrencebuskerfest.com)

"Buskers are bold street performers who make magic happen as if by…MAGIC!

Each show is unique and requires constant improvisation in response to a perpetually changing crowd and performance space. Buskers make the world their stage and they rely on the appreciative response of their audience through applause and tips."

(In NYC I imagine this term can also be pronounced Bus catchers)

I too am a Busker. I quickly discovered efforts in a wheelchair constantly required maneuvering in response to the steady flow of people traffic and sidewalk obstacles such as small children wielding cotton candy wands and cute dogs.

So in downtown Lawrence…we did not find vegetables. Instead we found me a new hat! Attached is pictured my new "lid." Selected from among a sea of choices you will note I am happy with its subtly stated JayHawk and the sporty women's fit.

After paying in cash, I was left with 75 cents and a mission. I would share my largess with the street performer who inspired me the most with their craft.

I am an appreciative audience. As we rolled, Busker #1 was a smelly young man with large hoop expanders in his earlobes. Although easily mistaken, this was NOT his craft. His performance was to roll a small glass globe around in circles in his hands and then up and across his forearms.

Pass. The smell of B.O. was too overwhelming.

Busker #2-- A man sitting in a doorway playing an acoustic guitar and singing a folk tune.

Pass. This fell far too short of the imagined promise of fire eaters, whip artists, strong man stunts, jugglers, mimes, and magicians,

Busker #3-- This was a family of Buskers. A man in his mid 40's sat beating a bongo drum next to a boy who appeared to be his 12 year old son. This young man was using a single wooden drum stick to beat out-of-sync with his father a noise atop a big white plastic bucket. It was a confused offering. A shameless squatter and his poor son manipulated to beg for some charity?...I pinched my coins and looked away. But, there was more. A third member of the group. The younger boys older brother. A young man in his mid teens dressed in black stood at his dad's shoulder and started to rap his rant through spoken word. It did not sound like poetry. When the beat suddenly stopped...young Jack Kerouac screamed at his father "Hey hey keep playing! Keep playing!!! When you guys stop I SOUND LIKE AN IDIOT!!! " To which the father replied, "No, you have your mother to thank for that." Message taken. Family problems. This man thinks his wife's an idiot.

I decided...

Pass. 75 cents is not going to fix this.

Busker #4-- A reggae man tapping out a cool rhythm on a tall skinny bongo looking drum. cool dreadlocks. a beat that made me want to follow it and dance a little.

I dropped the coins in the hat and danced a little inside to the jingle.

okay, time to go meet another beautiful day.

Happy Monday,

Amanda