Doctor David is in the House

I'm always grateful for people.  I think that is one of the most pleasurable and satisfying aspects of this busking business...the people.  Singing on the streets and in the subways is ever so interesting and enriching because of the interaction with people.
Of course, there are the people who are desperate, who are angry, who take it out on you with verbal abuse and harrassment, but they are few.  If anything, that kind of experience keeps things in perspective and keeps it real.  So I welcome a human challenge once in a while.
For the most part, however, people are wonderful.  For example, the drawing above.  A young man wanted to give me a gift for playing for him.  He had no money, but he pulled out his sketchpad and sat down opposite me and created this drawing and then handed it to me proudly.  This made my day.
I love seeing the regulars.  Most have long since stopped giving me a donation.  But that's o.k.  Once you feel like you are friends, it becomes difficult to accept money anyway. 
Then there are the regulars, a few of them, who give money everytime they see you.  I almost don't want them to donate, because it keeps the relationship business-like, kind of friendly, but at arm's length.  You know you'll never get close to them, because it is a business transaction.  And that's o.k., too.  Afterall, part of the reason I busk is to earn money, and without their loyalty I wouldn't be earning a cent. 
But mostly I appreciate it when someone stops and actually listens, then comments on the song.  Actually listens and comments on the song. 
That is when I know I have struck a chord with my audience.  Made a connection through the music.  Music is very healing.  It is the best medicine I know. 
Doctor David is in the house.

Occupying Philadelphia

It's a mystery to me
We have a greed with which we have agreed
Well you think you have go want more than you need
Until you have it all, you won't be free.
Society, you're a crazy breed
hope you're not lonely, without me....

Gotta hand it to the protesters, who occupied City Hall Plaza to call attention to the inequities of our society.  Gotta hand it to Eddy Vedder for writing his song "Society," to call attention to the greed with which we have agreed.
When will it end?  When will the poor and disenfranchised of all races realize, that it is not a race issue...it is a money issue.  Only when the poor of all races join together, recognize their common plight, will there be any progress in making this world a friendlier, more peaceful place to live.
I hope through my music, I can add fuel to their fire, help inspire a new way of thinking in this country....

It's Good to Be Back

It's good to back, busking again.  I've been to Suburban Station, where I met up with my friends from the P&C Restaurant.   It felt like I was coming home again.  So many people passing by, telling me how good it was, that I was back.  It felt good to be sharing the music again.  Seeing people, sharing smiles, thumbs up, stopping to chat.
Also, playing down on 2nd and Chestnut Streets, meeting up with fellow buskers, checking in, the hugs, the smiles, having been away for so many months...it feels good to know I've been missed.
The music connects us all. 
May it bring peace and love to the world.

Healed, Here Comes the Sun

Little Darlin', it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little Darlin', it seems like years since it's been clear,
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say,
It's all right.....

I feel like it's been a long winter for healing.  Last night I ventured out on the streets of Philadelphia for the first time in months.  It was First Friday in Philadelphia, where all the art galleries in Old City open their doors to celebrate the arts and offer wine and good times.  It was crowded.  Vendors with jewelry and art crowded 2nd Street with their tables to the beat of drummers and singer-songwriters.  It was quite a happening.  I found my familiar spot on 2nd and Chestnut and played for three hours.  It felt great to be out there again, singing, sharing my music.  Several store owners welcomed me back warmly.  It's nice to have been missed.  It was a beautiful warm Friday night.  Fireworks crackled over the Delaware River.  The street hummed with activity.  Yes, it was good to be back.
Most of all, I met up with some musician friends I hadn't seen in months.  Clinton, a 62-year-old trumpet player gave me a big burly hug and a crinkly-eyed smile.  Huey, my banjo buddy, filled me in on all the goings on with the cops. 
Yes, it was good to be back.
Last week I was in Bangor, Maine, at the American Folk Festival with my son, Andre.  It was a wonderful time, full of musicians, not only from the USA, but from China, Mexico, Egypt, Quebec, and India.  The blues musicians from Louisiana and Mississippi were very cool.  Most of all I enjoyed the buskers.  There was one cool dude who played mandolin.  Just stood there and played mandolin the whole day.  Hours and hours.  He had to be the most devoted busker I have ever met in my life.  There were other musicians, who played guitar and congas and flute and dulcimer, but that mandolin player sticks in my mind most of all. 
Music. 
Helps to make sense out of the chaos.
And heal the wounds.

Busking: Not Just Music

It's been a long winter.  I have spent the last four months healing, unable to play out on the streets or in the train station.  I have missed sharing my music and meeting people and talking and celebrating life.  I have visited my spot in Suburban Station, talked with fellow buskers, had green tea with lemon at the P&C Restaurant where I stand and sing.  I have enjoyed connecting with the Korean owners who are Buddhist.  They have given me beautiful books about Buddhism to read and a cd of monks chanting to help the healing process.  The warmth and support have worked wonders.  I feel ready to get back in the game now.  May 2nd.  My first day back. 
I did play and sing at a cafe for the Fairmount Arts Crawl a few weeks ago and it went well.  So the ice has been broken.
I've also met a young woman who is new to Philadelphia.  She reached out to me through this blog and was wondering about busking as a balloon artist.  I thought that was a very cool idea and encouraged her to look into it with SEPTA, but also to consider ballooning on the streets in Old City on a First Friday or a Saturday night, or maybe in Rittenhouse Square Park.  I got to catch her act in Chestnut Hill last Friday.  She made all types of balloon animals and for me she made a balloon guitar, which I can actually play.  No lie.  She is going to be busking with me this Friday, First Friday, on 2nd and Chestnut Streets, so if you're interested in seeing how the balloon arts and the musical arts can connect, then stop by.
I'm so excited about playing again.  I'll be playing on Monday, May 2nd and Wednesday, May 4th from 12 noon to 3 PM in Suburban Station, near Au Bon Pain.  Also I'll be at 2nd and Chestnut on Friday night after about 7 PM until whenever my fingers give out.
Hope to see you there.
Ah, sweet music.  I'll be even singing a song my wife Patricia wrote called Spring in Philadelphia.  Ah, sweet Spring.

A Winter for Healing

I've missed you guys.  Yes, it's been a long and cold winter.  I feel bad that I haven't been up to writing or playing music in Suburban Station.  After surgery my voice was shot.  It's been a long recovery, but I'm feeling stronger and itching to play again.  Not yet, but soon.  I'm going to venture out in April.  Probably on Friday and Saturday nights in Old City, 2nd and Chestnut.  Maybe Suburban Station.  I can't wait.
The voice.  I think I did some damage to myself.  After surgery I lay unconscious for four days.  During that time of darkness, I tore out two breathing tubes from my lungs.  Not just once, but twice.  I guess I didn't like them.  Anyway, I'm sure it didn't do my throat any good.
But I'm lucky.  I'm feeling pretty normal now.
I have been very lucky during these past few weeks of healing, however.  I am fortunate to be teaching guitar to a ten-year-old boy.  He is a ray of sunshine and creativity.  He was born in this country of Mexican parents.  I have been working with him for almost a year, and his progress is remarkable.  He wrote his first song in December.  We recorded it and he gave a cd of his singing and playing to his parents for Christmas.  He is working hard on his second song, developing his own voice and style.  And this kid is ten years old.  He has also introduced me to music I wouldn't have listened to otherwise.  His favorite singer/songwriter?  Ringo Starr.  His favorite song?  Peace Dream.  Here are the lyrics. 

Last night I had a Peace dream.
You know how real dreams can be?
The world was a better place for you and me,
Can’t you see?
No need for war no more.
Better things worth fighting for.
No more hunger, no more pain.
I hope I have that dream again.
Can you imagine all of this coming true?
It’s really up to all of us to do.
Just like John Lennon said
In Amsterdam, from his bed,
One day the world will wake up to see
The reality.
Last night I had a Peace dream.
You know how real dreams can be?
The world was a better place for you and me,
Can’t you see?
(Try to imagine…)
No need for war no more.
Better things worth fighting for.
No more hunger, no more pain.
I hope that dream comes true some day.
So try imagine,
If we give peace a chance,
All the world could be
Living in harmony.
One day our dream could be reality.
Reality.
Last night I had a Peace dream.
You know how real dreams can be?
The world was a better place for you and me,
(Try to imagine…)
No need for war no more.
(Try to imagine…)
Better things worth fighting for.
No more hunger, no more pain.
We’ll make our dream come true some day.
Now you can see why I love working with his kid.  He has carried me through a difficult time with the healing power of music.
Thank you, my musical friend.  I am grateful for your healing medicine.
And now I'm feeling ready to sing again.
Spring.  A time for rebirth.

A Busker Returns

Nowhere Boy.  It's a great film about John Lennon, his growing up, discovering the banjo and the guitar as a young boy, and finally hooking up with Paul McCartney and George Harrison to form the Quarrymen.  The film ends with his leaving his aunt who raised him and his mother, who taught him banjo, to head off to Hamburg, Germany, full of hurt and anger and teenage angst.  Probably a good foundation to start a rock band.
The reason I mention this film is because they talk about their uncle who was a "busker."
This is the first mention of the word "busker" I have heard of. 

It's been a month since I've written.  I haven't played my guitar or sung during this time either.  I had an aortic dissection on Jan. 18th with ten hours of open-heart surgery, and I had to stay in the hospital for two weeks.  The odds are that only ten percent of the people who suffer with aortic dissection survive.
Well, here I am.
I guess I had a few more songs to write, a few more gigs to play here on earth before I moved on.
Now I'm home recovering.  I picked up my guitar the other day for the first time.  I played some piano.  I'm sure my playing and singing will be back to normal soon.  But this has been a very shocking and humbling experience.  I've had lot of time to think and sort things out in my head.
I've missed singing to my people in Suburban Station.  I'm hoping I'll be ready to play again around March 15th, and I'm looking forward to it.  Hope you stop by...