Busker Trauma

I could start this post with a series of very rude and aggressive words, but I will try to contain myself (for the most part, at least). I cannot deny how incredibly amazing our new flat is, especially location-wise. Close to basically everything there is in St Andrews, and giving us perfect bird-eye view of Market Street (best entertainment e-ver!). But nothing this good can come without a price, and we have, unfortunately, learnt the price of living on Market Street.

So, let me say, with all the gentleness and poise which are so natural to me, that those buskers need to HIT THE ROAD. Literally, head-first, if possible. And may their instruments perish in the process too. Why, why, why OH why do we need to suffer this every single week, if not day, that we spend in our living room? 

Let me begin with the infamous flute player, enemy to all Market Street residents. Are there even any words to describe this man? Or someone who understands what compels him to stand there for hours on end playing the same three songs over, and over, and over... I cannot count the times we have heard 'Yesterday', 'Rhythm of My Heart' and 'Memories' this month. If he loves music this much, he seriously needs to go back to a sound-proof room and practice some more, because this really isn't working (despite playing hours on end, heaven knows how he hasn't mastered those songs by now). I fully encourage anyone who is gifted to share that gift with the world, but for crying out loud, expand on the bloody gift!! There are millions of songs he could play. Or, possibly, not...

Then, of course, because we are in Scotland, the bagpipe player. Fortunately he doesn't appear too often and not for too long, but still, give us a break: Saturday mornings are for sleeping, not to ceilidh down to Tesco's. Of course, wherever he is we will hear him (not like the flute player, who fortunately sometimes stands on the corner by Tesco's and is not always audible) because the bagpipe is a very manly instrument, some would argue. 

And let's not forget the accordion player; mind you, the only person who has a degree of musical talent in this list of traumatic characters. I don't know if perhaps I have been given this impression because he tends to appear after the flute player, and believe me, nothing sounds worse than that. My discomfort and anger are often transformed to intrigue when he starts playing 'Cielito Lindo' and I begin to wonder how an accordion could ever play a song that was written by mariachis, but hey, the world is beautiful because it's varied, or so I've been told.

The most recent addition to this lovely crowd of people was the wooden flute player. This is a very geeky and old-school reference, but the sound squealing out of that instrument reminded me of Nintendo 64 and 'Zelda: The Ocarina of Time'. Needless to say, a moment from the 90s that I really did not want to revisit. Worse still, this man thought it would be a fabulous idea to perform the 'Barney' theme song a few times. Video game AND paedophile dinosaur reminiscences, all in one day...what a treat!

But, truth be told, these people do have one very well-developed talent. The moment one sits down to do some actual, serious work, they start playing. The 'self-certificate of absence' page should add a new category to the list of reasons for absence from class: madness due to bad busking.