10 November 2010. Autumn sun. Man on street in dungarees, early hour, strumming small guitar, calling out lines of song. "It's been a hard time..." Old hat with stained brim, workshirt jacket, heavy black shoes. Guitar case open on the sidewalk, worn American flag on small stick, vinyl-bound book of scripture (?), copy of drawing on plain white paper--the singer's face--plus two or three unidentified cds. My dollar added, his thank you...
But there's no need, the word is built in, "I need you, Mama," and all the rest. Verses from a lifetime, acquired and borrowed, nabbed, stolen, purloined... An insistent amalgam, set to the up-and-down rhythm of a worn pick...
Blues...
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