Busking In The Rush Hour

Busking In The Rush Hour

By Paul McCann

The walk through the city streets was fast and furious caught up on the sidewalk with sound of high heels tip tapping the beat to the rush hour as girls strutted their way like a parade of pretty flamingos all dancing to the same tune , working for a living , trying to get ahead and close behind them a bunch of blue collar workers with brief cases on board as they did the broad stepping sidewalk swagger bouncing along the footpaths like human medicine balls looking for a set of ten pins to bowl over on the way to the office for another game of who done it better without even trying .

In the morning stampede were university students with a fever for the pursuit of silk degrees in academia , with an addiction pushing them towards their masters on a graduation day some day in the not too distant future .

Not far behind in the morning rush came mothers with babies in strollers , tourists with back packs and school children with school bags in the mix .

Then there was I the busker who made my way to the usual spot where I played .

Seeing the usual audience who came along each morning to the stage of life .

My busking spot was now in view and most days I never knew what kind of appreciation would come but whatever came along I was hoping to bring a song or two into someone’s head to welcome them to another day .

So I took stand with my guitar and began to play and sing blue suede shoes in an E Major key .

After a while a fellow busker friend of mine called Chris Gallagher presented himself ,�“How’s it going Mac ?”

It was a bit tricky trying to talk between singing the lines but every now and then I let the six string do the talking as I spoke to Chris .

“Rocking away doing Ok .How’s things with you ?”

A few songs later he borrowed my guitar and did a few songs . Anyway then he handed back the six string the brush hour was over and Chris suggested grabbing a bite to eat . With the busking money I had we went to get a coffee and some raisin toast at the city extra cafe in Church Street .

Chris used to be a member in a band called Thin Ice . They had been the support band for Mike Oldfield when he did a concert at the Capitol Theatre . That was the biggest gig Thin Ice had ever scored . They never really got the big break . Thin Ice were a good blues band but maybe they should have chosen a better name for the band . The reason being was the band eventually broke up in the end and some people got hurt in the process .

Chris and I had an idea to put a band together but sensing failure if we tried we opted to keep ourselves busy with the busking . It was something we had in common was both of us were buskers . We often put a few tunes together that we ended up and we had found enough work there doing that around the city traps .

We wrote a few songs together and did a few gigs for private functions in Parramatta with outreach groups and other community events . Some of the time we were just like two weeping sticks of dynamite ready to explode at any time with instant inspiration with a melody or a set of lyrics that arrived without an invite or warning,

It was part of the passionate lifestyle that we lived and enjoyed  .

So we had a coffee and a chat until the return rush hour was on its way and then Chris picked up his guitar and we returned to a different spot in Parramatta Mall before the night fell with threadbare patches to the day .

Chris and I got along well busking songs .  There were good times and bad times always part of the mixture of feelings that creates a friction of harmony .

Bottom of the barrel stuff that puts you somewhere on the doorstep begging for acceptance in a world where people pass you by every day during the rush hour .

The End