The Guitar Man

I was smoking, while waiting for my wife and her friends after work to ride home. I saw a man in late fifties playing guitar in front of Coles store. The easy proximity towards the man and the complexity of waiting for my wife and her friends encouraged me to walk back to the front door of the stores to listen to this guitar man. He was playing Beatles. I sat beside him after stubbing my cigarette inside the nearby bin stuck to the wall. He greeted me as he played to the tune of Norwegian wood.
A pan with coins of all denominations lied on the floor, a bag beside it with the computer keyboard coming out of it and a reusable shopping bag with bottles in it. I moved closer and he had all kinds of smell- tobacco, booze, sweat and more.
‘Do you play?’ he asked me plucking to the tunes of music alien to my ear.
I smiled back and said, ‘ I can strum a little with few basic chords.’
He did not say much and continued plucking strings. Leaving shoppers threw coins in the pan. Some as much as hand full. It appeared to me they were giving him coins not so much for his music but to get rid of changes. He wasn’t playing anything great.
An old lady threw a handful of coins and said, ‘ that is all the coins I have.’
‘Do you want me to put a note saying we don’t mind notes?’ I joked.
He did not laugh, and instead he said, ‘ it is a good money.’ And he supplemented, ‘one time I made sixty dollars in one hour and twenty plus dollars are usual.’
‘ That is a good money!’ I interrupted him.
‘ This is a best work I have ever done, except I can’t play for long.’ He continued to play guitar as he added. ‘I play for an hour or two and leave, I can’t play long like other who could do for long hours.’ He explained to me in a heavy Australian accent.
He removed the strap and offered his guitar. ‘ You want to try?’ He handed his guitar and took his pan to pocket his earnings.
Why not? I have been trying all my life to play a guitar producing all kinds of sound except music. I did not want to give away this opportunity to try one more time. I started to strum.
Shoppers started to stop and see me play. They smiled. Don’t get it wrong. It was not for the music but I guess it was more for the scene I was creating without any knowhow of playing guitar. Some of them were, I think, amazed by my attitude towards what they call hippie. Music is music, right? No one was throwing coins anymore. Well, my friend was busy counting his coins. I don’t think he expected any.
After a brief moment with my music and me, shoppers left. I got introduced with my friend formally.
‘I am Murray.’ He informed me and we shook hands. He started to give me some tips to play and what to look for when buying a guitar. ‘ You should look for twelve strings guitar because you will have option of two guitars.’
‘ I might settle for second hand.’ I informed him.
‘ You should check the bridge, strings and sound.’ He cautioned me.
I thanked him, and he was taking alcohol from the bottle. He took two shots, capped it and put it in his bag. He was good to go.
I wanted to talk with this guy more. We talked for a while I played his guitar. I discovered that he knew few things about Bhutan, democracy, and other developments like the time we got television, Internet and subject of happiness.
‘You are well-informed for a person who plays guitar in front of the stores.’ I praised him.
He lighted his cigarette and said, ‘ I listen to the radio.’ As he exhaled smoke from his first drag.
After few minutes, my wife was by the door and I requested her to drop two dollars coin in the pan. I introduced him to my wife. I handed back his guitar and he left.
‘ See you around.’ We said to each other.
I am now inspired to buy a second-hand guitar. I might play like him someday and get paid. You never know, what is next?