Well, well, well. Today was the bomb.
Do you ever have certain days where there are multiple “coincidences?” I use quotes around coincidences because I sort of feel that being a person of faith, coincidences are ultimately quite meaningless in the force of the path of God’s will. But today I had a heck of a coincidence.
First I ran into a friend on the bartrain. Not very coincidental.
Then some random European tourist (he sounded German) came up to me asking if I knew where some good live music would be happening tonight. Not coincidental in the least, but I felt like I was two for two in unexpected connections. And unexpected connections are kind of what busking is all about!
So I got to Powell St station and went to the spot that I’ve been lucky enough to get the last few times. Great Acoustics. During my third song this middle aged black dude approached me.
“You’ve got a real unique sound going there.” He said. I thanked him and he asked me about folk music. “Do you fancy yourself a folk musician?” He asked.
“Once I get a bit more mileage maybe,” I replied.
He then asked me for another song, and I happily obliged. As I finished he asked me about my lyrics. The first song that he heard was one of my Rilke songs. The second I played for him was a new one I’ve been working on. He observed quite accurately that I was using a common blues progression on my new song. He asked me for another song – specifically for one that I had written both the music and the lyrics. I gave him one of my old ones, and after hearing it he proceeded to suggest some new words for the chorus. I can’t tell you how much it means for someone to care about the music that much.
He then put a dollar in my guitar case.
Then he left only to come back about ten minutes later. I finished one of my other Rilke songs. And he said:
“Wow, you’ve got some really neat songs.”
I thanked him again. And he started talking philosophy. He told me about how polytheism was closer to universalism than the universalists would like. He told me about Nietzsche and how when he started to lose his mind he would sign his letters “The Crucified” “Dionysius,” or simply, “Anti-Christ.” He told me that he had been thinking a lot about Dionysius in particular today because all he had had to eat was a bunch of grapes. Which he proceeded to pull the remains out of a paper bag that he was carrying. Eventually he left and I got back to playing.
After he left, some kid came up and put a dollar and a bunch of fake plastic grapes in my guitar case. No joke.
Then about thirty minutes later, my new friend the philosopher came back again. He approached me and took a bank statement slip out of his pocket. He showed it to me – it read: $O.OO. Bummer. I told him that I wouldn’t think ill of him if he wanted the dollar he gave me back. He thanked me and delicately retrieved his green. As he was reaching into the guitar case he noticed the fake grapes that I had just received.
“That’s quite a coincidence,” he said.
“If you believe in that sort of thing,” I said.
Money: $9.47 AND! Some dude put a bart card with $48 still on it! Did I mention that today was the bomb?