Dancin' in the Dark...Blinded by the Light

Get it? Bruce SPRINGsteen? No? Ah, to heck with ya.

Mornings like this are why I really don't mind commuting to work. It's warm outside, drizzling but not really raining, the occasional roll of quiet thunder...classic spring rainy morning. I started a new Vonnegut book this morning that I'm enjoying so much that the hour-long trip went a little too quickly. And when I got to Queen's Park station, my favorite busker was there (I need a name for him - perhaps a Fidder on the Roof reference, but Fiddler in Queen's Park just doesn't quite roll off the tongue. Or fingers, as it were...). I haven't seen much of him since the new year started - the spot he chooses is high-traffic, but WICKED cold in winter since it's right at the bottom of the stairs to the sidewalk, so it's really not a great spot to try to play the violin when the wind chills are -30. He reappeared one of the mornings last week when #1 was visiting...I was so happy, because I really want anyone who comes to visit me to see all of my favorite things in Toronto, and he's awfully high on the list. So anyway, he's usually playing something I recognize (I imagine the more well-known the piece, the better the tips are), but not always things I can connect to a title. This morning, it was easy, because he was playing Vivaldi's The Four Seasons. Spring, naturally. As I walked by, I smiled at him as usual (which alone should tell you how much I love this guy - I don't, as a general rule, smile at strangers, although I wish I did more), and he said, "I like your smile!" so I smiled bigger.

As I walked away, he changed gears and started playing "You are my Sunshine." I like to think it was for me, even though he was probably just flirting with a prettier girl a few steps behind me. :)

I felt bad, though - I had actually thought about him this morning before I left the house and decided the next time I saw him I was going to drop some money in his case; as soon as I heard him playing I pulled out my wallet, but I had absolutely nothing smaller than a twenty or bigger than a quarter. The twenty seems excessive, but the quarter seems downright insulting. Ah, well, I'll catch you next time, Fiddler, because you really do make me smile, and you deserve something for that.