Everyone knows the story of how I became a busker. I'll tell you
just in case.Once upon a time I was 6 years old. Oh, let's
see,that would be about 1970. My mom and dad took Missy and
me to Boston for four days one summer. We lived in a hotel
next to an ice rink. It was just up the road from a
restaurant which boasted its Yale-Harvard Regatta
memorabilia. Well, our main destinations planned were
Boston Common,the Tea Party Ship, some bookstore where Ben
Franklin fell asleep, and the basketball hall of fame where
everyone knows the story about Mr. Naismeth who gave someone
a dilapidated apple crate and they reused it for recreation.
Hence: Basket Ball. Well, that's a whole other story. Let
me quit kibutzing here andtell you how I grew up to become
curator of Mark Weisenheimer'sCyberspace MuseumofBusking.
Out in front of Fannieul Hall
there was a man playing a Bob Dylan song.His guitar case was
overflowing with 1's, 10's, hundreds, even thousands. OK
that's what it looked like to this 6-year old. There was
probably 25 to a hundred bucks in that thing. He told
jokesbetween songs, juggled, blew balloons, pinched
childrens' cheeks and promoted his evening gig in "the
world's oldest pub in all of Bostonstill standing..."
"Mom, Dad," I said with more than Lucifer's ambition in my
eye gleaming, "When I grow up, I wanna be a street
guitarist." I was sure of it. "Fine, Marc," my mom said,
"so long as you have something else to fall back on. You'll
need it to keep yourself alive." I knew what she meant right
away. The uncertainty of making cash flow from 1-? dollars
per hour; the city officials who like to ask you ifyou have
a permit for that; the people who walk by saying, "get a
job;" the shopkeeps who think you'reruining their business.
(I was kickedout of one place by a woman complaining that
althoughthe entertainment was very classy -- yes I was
playing "serious" musicin the mezzanine during "Phantom Of
The Opera" with permission -- my presence reminded her too
much of places like the streets of Mexico!!!) Let's see. I
started busking when I was 14 years old and I'm 33 now.I've
never stopped. Well to sleep. And to work odd jobs, or to
take college, or help run homeless shelters, but my main
calling is busking. That is when and why I began abusking.
Did I ever tell youthat story? That's all I can say for now.
Marco Curator and Docent; MUSEUM OF BUSKING
Click here for some Marco Mp3 musicI'm
a little disillusioned with Art Garfunkle rightnow. I've
always seen him as an excellent poet and a very humble
street musician.Maybe not anymore."Listen, try and get us a
job," says art to PaulSimon when the album "Wednesday
Morning, 3am" wasjust hitting the charts, "for when I come."
Art wasin NY and Paul was in London. "And no singing in
thestreets."Wanna hear the shortest song in the whole world?"Short Song."