Day 377: Sax appeal

saxCartoonIt was very blustery in our fair metropolis today. Skirts were flying, debris swirling, toupees holding on for dear life. Good day for kites, not so much for hair-dos.

As I was walking to the subway, I approached a young saxophone player who was trying to set up his case and his music book so he could start busking. But the wind was flapping the pages of the book so hard, I though they might rip right off.

As I may have mentioned once or, ahem, twice, I have a soft-spot for buskers and I saw that this guy probably needed a paperweight more than a few coins.

I knew there was a little park behind where he was sitting, so I took a chance I might be able to find something to help him out.

Not sure exactly what I expected to find. A heavy boot? A stray anvil?

But I hadn’t walked more than 100 feet and there was my answer – a pile of loose garden rocks. It was like finding a poor man’s pot of gold at the end of a non-existent rainbow.

I rubbed my eyes thinking it was a mirage, but nope – still there. So I picked up a good paper-weight-sized one then realized it was technically city property.

Could I get fined for boulder tampering? Or would a rolling stone gather no loss? (Okay, I’ll stop now.)

In the spirit of GDADism, I took a chance and, fortunately, no sirens or silent pebble alarms were triggered.

When I approached the young sax player, he’d managed to position his feet awkwardly on the corners of the music book and was starting to play (I think it was “My Old Flame”).

I bent down and gently placed the rock on the corner of the flapping page to anchor it. He stopped playing for a second and laughed when he realized what I’d brought him.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling.

“No problem,” I said, smiling back. And I threw some coins into his case for good measure. I stopped a little ways on to listen to him play … no, he didn’t strike up the theme from “Gone With the Wind” ….

P.S. Here’s the legendary Charlie Parker. Enjoy!


2 thoughts on “Day 377: Sax appeal

  1. I have a stepping stone/garden rock that I’m keeping as a wall plaque.
    The inscription reads: Heartsong
    There is an exquisite melody in every heart. If we listen closely we can hear each others song.

    As inspirational as this, albeit resin rock is to me…. I bet your (good deed) genuine rock/paperweight had a beauty all it’s own to that young musician by the windy day’s end.

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