Busking

According to the Guardian, Badly Drawn Boy is a well-known, award winning, professional musician. (Don’t ask me. My grasp of pop stops at Ella Fitzgerald.) He went out busking on the streets of London, and in 90 minutes earned only ?60. So the Guardian sent out seven of their writers to see if they could do better. Amazingly, they averaged ?05 for their 90 minute efforts.

Things go well – 50p from a young man evidently impressed by my swirling Mr Tambourine Man – until a dog goes past, howling in tune with the harmonica. This disconcerts us and business becomes slow: 10p from an embarrassed-looking young man, 20p from a woman who lookes at me with pity, and a piece of paper from a man on a bicycle who says he has no money but will stand me a meal at his restaurant. I think this admirable until I see the address: the Hare Krishna Food For All Centre in Camden Town.
. . .
In a tunnel at King’s Cross Station, I toss 50p into my guitar case to get things going and kick off with Blowin’ in the Wind because a) it seems timely and b) it constitutes exactly one half of my repertoire. It’s a hit. After 10 minutes, a skinny bloke with a tracksuit and no teeth gives me 90p. “Good to see you back,” he says, bafflingly.
. . .
Five minutes in, I hear a coin drop into my hat. This is despite having made the earlier error of playing Jingle Bells in the middle of February. I look up and say thank you. A Chinese-looking man has given me 50p. I pray that he isn’t a member of my extended family who’s recognised me. Visions of returning home to my distraught parents, asking me, “Where did it all go wrong, Jimmy?” trouble me for a while.
The article is one of the funnier things I have read in the paper, and unlike the editorial section, it is not unintentional.