Well well well. Though the grey blanket of shrouded clouds seemed to cast a shadow over an otherwise fine day, the patchwork woven coverture was not enough to dampen spirits nor stop a man making his living - as a musician. Aye.
This morning I penned a letter to the Police station, citing the Vagrancy Act of 1824 in an attempt to get rid of the thief and beggar that threatened to smash up the violin and guitar, and stole my living on the street. It was no use. He's still there this morning, as far as I'm aware.I played the Bistro instead, was paid, and well-fed. Having not gigged on my own for quite a while meant I hadn't realised just how much I miss being at liberty to play what I please, to sing whatever I wish. Maxy was on fire this morning! Oh yeah! I was the man of the moment, a musical mæstro in residence. All is well. I am looking forward to the gig on the morrow with No electrickery. Life is swell right now, adverse circumstances notwithstanding the beggar-man/thief still being a bane.
Max.
No comments:
Post a Comment