Beg, Borrow or Busk
By Eric Müller
Posted on
On entering school in Eugene, Oregon, Edmund realized how radically different our
family was compared to most American families, and he got increasingly embarrassed
about all our traditions, customs and my nonconformist quirks, like playing music in
public spaces. For a while I didn’t go anywhere without my pennywhistle (and sundry
noisemakers) tucked inside my jacket pocket, which I would whisk out at any time when
I felt the urge, which happened whenever I walked under a bridge, through a tunnel or
any place that had inviting acoustics – or just because. With an immediate “Aw,
Daaaad,” he’d distance himself, and squirm. I always dreamed of busking with the entire
family. That never happened, but I did, somehow, get all three of my sons to tag along
with me, at least once.…
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