Otherwise
I was on the metro the other day. It was perfectly ordinary. I was taking it to Les Corts station, the closest to Camp Nou (or is it Nou Camp?) the fabled stadium of FC Barcelona. A larger middle aged man got on with his two sons. The boys sat in the two seats next to me and the father sat across goatherding his kids. Then a group of buskers got on. Actually it was a pair. A fiddler, an accordion player and a stereo. They played a bit and then circulated the train car for money. I kept thinking how wonderful it would have been if another set of buskers got on the train. They would be dressed all in black with mask and capes. Instead of a stereo they would have a man with a snare drum. They would stare down the first set and then outplay them. The first buskers now embarassed would exit at the first stop possible, without asking for money. The black-garbed crew would then laugh maniacally and leave. I thought about all of this and how brilliant it would be. Then I remembered that those two men they really were just trying to make a living. Maybe they had families or dogs.
* unrelated note. Africa is also trying to make a living and the BBC is gving that some well-deserved publicity. Africa Lives go there and check out nollywood and the bob geldof congo thing.
* unrelated note. Africa is also trying to make a living and the BBC is gving that some well-deserved publicity. Africa Lives go there and check out nollywood and the bob geldof congo thing.
