I'm Dreaming Of A White Guitar

Bobby, in building C is determined to see me equipped to do the grueling work of making "4 times as much" money busking; so that he has told me that he intends to buy me an electric guitar; after his having researched that particular product and found, like myself, that we are living in an age when robots can manufacture a pretty much consistent in quality electric guitar that has had its frets shaved to within microns of perfection by laser guided other robots, rather than by a guy named "Martin" who is using a hand tool, but who has such a good ear that his finished products fetch amazing amounts of money at auction; they can crank out a guitar that, since they make so many and thus buy their "genuine rosewood" at wholesale prices, is cheap, relative to a guitar that has a recognizable brand name, has the brand name of "Mitchell" or "Jackson" instead, and is one that he has said he will get me one of, "for Christmas," along with, a small battery operated amp, and trailer and bike to pull it all behind, the last being already sitting in his apartment.

The guy seems to, at the least, think that I have been a very poor manager of my own busking career.
He may see me as a fixer-upper.

He has heard me play, usually through his dearly paid for and surprisingly outperforming for the money equipment, and he is of a solid opinion that myself, standing alongside the tall buildings of Canal Street and "cranking out," so as to be heard throughout the block, is my "way to go."

The kratom green one, if you don't mind, Bobby...

I agreed with him on the point, citing my encounters with a preponderance of street musicians who concurred on the subject of "once I became amplified," with the consensus being that they all seemed to have begun to make "4 times as much" at that point, that I would fully expect to be able to make "4 times as much" as I would be, standing on damned Canal Street at 2 AM with no amplifier; sure; that would be a 20 dollar to 80 dollar eventuality.

The Chubby Checker looking black guy, who wears kind of flowery button up shirts with slacks and the kind of shoes that you shine, and who has, probably a "vintage" Fender electric guitar and who plays it through an amp with its "chorus" setting used in its eponymous way to make it sound like at least more than one Chubby Checker looking guy playing "old school gospel," I'm sure he gets 20 dollar tips, due to his amp, from people who say "I could hear Luther from all the way over there, I just had to come over and bless you..." as they put it in his basket.

Bobby is right in that regard.

But, the Lilly Pad...

The Lilly Pad is the Boardwalk to the "Illinois Ave" that is Canal Street.

The 20 dollars that I might make after I break the guitar and harmonica out in the presence of David the Water Jug Player after we have smoked weed at 2 AM on Canal Street, and the guitar has already come out so David could play, usually: "What A Wonderful World This Would Be," the Sam Cooke song (and a song that I invariably see as A Skeezing Song, i.e. If you give me a couple dollars for my next beer then, yes, wonderful it would be, indeed! but I'm digressing; Chubby will have made the "4 times as much" of 80 bucks in the same period.

But, the Lilly Pad is where I average 18 bucks per hour.

I would be using the amplifier to add effects. This is a substantial part of the equation.

Those buskers who spoke of quadrupling their income after "becoming amplified," also "became more like the songs that you hear on the radio" in the process, and, let's face it; any karaoke singer will tell you that if you turn the reverb knob up it will make your voice sound better; like, you're on the radio, or something. There aren't as many fans of the open air acoustics of Canal Street.

Using the correct settings on the amplifier, one can be singing in the shower (where we all sound like Frank Sinatra) wherever she performs.

So, I would count this as an opportunity to perhaps double the amount that I make there. I would be carefully adding just enough volume to my vocals to set them above the level of the acoustic guitar in a manner consistent with where an audio engineer in a recording studio would balance the two sounds, but would blend in the ambiance of delay and reverb.

Illinois Avenue

And, I would be keeping the amplifier out of sight; because otherwise it could become a bone of contention between Lilly and whomever she may have had to assert herself against in the neighborhood counsel, back when it was made copacetic that I sit at the one and only spot that I do; and play acoustically each evening, and very rarely past 1:30 AM.

So, if Bobby were to get me the stuff for Christmas, I would only tote the little battery powered amp.

I would have gotten a "headset" microphone of a high quality. This, I would have strapped to the harmonica harness so that it, through precision placement, would capture both singing and harmonica playing.

Then, I would run this microphone (wireless) to the little amp, which would be concealed in my backpack.

It might even sound like I have a magical, echoing voice, and a lilting harmonica that seems to careen off the historical and probably haunted walls, to those who can't see the amp in the backpack.