Within a few shops of our destination a piano busker of Seasick Steve appearance was tickling the ivories on an old battered, upright piano.  On another visit to the metropolis to watch the footy at the ‘G’ ( MCG – Melbourne Cricket Ground) we arrived early (parking by the boatsheds of the Yarra River) to have lunch at the Pancake Parlour (a short stack with cream & maple syrup). As we made our passage there, the sounds of a honky tonk piano filtered through the hustle and bustle of the populous. My son and I ventured across and there was a Japanese Cowboy, George Kamikawa with a large crowd boppin’ to his one man band as he performed on a lap steel guitar, kick drum and harp. One year my focus had been distracted by the sound of amplified blues harp flamming from across the tram tracks. When both our kids were young pups we’d travel down the mountain to the big sticks to continue a tradition that my wife’s Nan had engaged in with her as a child – to view the Myer Christmas windows in Bourke street. Our very own Aussie (Englishman in Sydney) harpman Chris Blanchflower hooked up with Boz Scaggs in the mid sixties and busked their way around Europe. Many of the great harpists, Little Walter, Big Walter, Sonny Terry, Junior Wells and the Sonny Boys all blew their chops for monetary reward on the streets of their town. There’s not too many musos that didn’t cut their chompers in the trade by busking on their local streets. Some others tip me, hah, and sometimes they sing right along…One for the money, two for the show, three for the busker who plays by the road. Ah, but thousands of people march to my songs.
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