Everything’s Alright

I have a busking fantasy. It’s not just that I want to be a busker, regularly. It’s a specific scene, at a specific Metro entrance, and I am wearing a specific outfit, playing a specific song. I can get there, but I have a long way to go (refine my rough chords, learn to play standing up, and tone the courage muscle).

Busking is the scariest thing I can imagine that is also something I want, and that is not dangerous. It’s ex-scary, or fear-citing, or some combination of exciting and scary that I don’t have a word for yet. The barriers are quite low. In other words, it’s easier (logistically) to go out and busk than to get an indoor gig somewhere or even attend an open mic. Those things require venues and sound systems and the participation of other people. If you want to be a busker, you just put your shoes on and go.

I have gone three times, but I wouldn’t say it was clear on any of those occasions that I was actually playing for money. (After all, I was sitting down, singing quietly, and each time I was in a pretty out-of-the-way place. I may have even been sitting on my case one of those times.) Still, I was training myself on what it felt like to play and sing in public. If no one was paying attention, all the better.

What surprised me most about these tiny ventures into buskerland is that my crappy guitar playing didn’t seem to matter as much as it seems to at home, or on a stage. My singing was much more important, and the fact that I know a ton of lyrics and could just keep singing was the most important thing.

It’s clear to me that I will get there and what I will look like when I do. I can see it in my mind’s eye. I thought of drawing this scene, or making a collage of it like a vision board. But it turns out that I have a new way of expressing myself: songwriting. And so, it came out in a song.

Backbone and Bindle (Traveling I)

I’m tuning my machine and getting ready to head out

I’ll probably have to whisper and I know I’ll have to shout

These things I’ll have to take with me: my coffee and my wedding ring

‘Cause I’m taking this train westward and when I get there I’ll sing

I’ve got my backbone and my bindle and I’m busking at the station place

My cowboy boots below me and the sun around my face

I ditched my satin for my plastic for my paper for my innerspace

And now I toe the line and take my spot among the human race

And everything’s alright

They said an office job would seal my future, but on the road’s the life for me

I don’t need high-tech gadgets or fancy couture, just lots of positivity

I’ve got my backbone and my bindle and I’m busking at the station place

My cowboy boots below me and the sun around my face

I ditched my satin for my plastic for my paper for my innerspace

And now the naysayers are after me but they can’t top my pace

And everything’s alright