So there I am in Back Bay, playing something fiddly, when a woman in a bright orange Hawaiian shirt approaches me and asks, "Are you the Accidental Fiddler?"
"I love your blog!"
So hello there, friendly individual; I really liked your shirt, and if I seemed confused, it's because it takes a bit for my brain to switch from "playing mode" to "interaction with fellow human" mode. It was nice to meet a reader who wasn't someone I already know!
I didn't realize that, when Red Sox games are cancelled, they broadcast that in the T stations; I wonder if it's all of them or just the ones closest to Fenway Park?
All I know is I heard it about 97 times in Back Bay, and I saw a number of mildly disgruntled individuals in Sox apparel, and if you're not going to be spending the $4.50 on a hot dog, how 'bout dropping a bit of what you were going to spend in my case? No? Oh. OK then.
The performer's area at Back Bay is right next to one of the giant trash cans, which doesn't bother me, except today when a disheveled individual came up, rummaged around in it, found a discarded beverage, poured it into his own cup, and drank it down. Dude. That can't be sanitary. Also, dude. *shudders*
Rain rain, go away
For farmers, you may be OK
But Fiddler wants outside to play
Instead of underground all day.
(I'm a musician, dammit, not a poet.)