Breck Street Musician

Last night I finished work late around 9:20 PM. I grabbed my backpack and headed out the back door towards Main Street. I walked down the road headed towards Breck Station with intentions of catching the 9:45 PM bus, but I saw a man on the street corner fiddling on his guitar and decided to stop for no particular reason.

I sat on the stoop next to a bearded man in his late twenties and an older homeless man in his late forties with a guitar in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other.  He slurred his words and played little riffs on his guitar. One of his more unique songs was dead flowers dedicated to his bitch of an ex-wife…as he so exclaimed many times over the course of the night. He gave me some advice, “Hit it and quit it.” I chuckled and continued to listen to his theories on our government and God as he continued to mess around on his guitar. The other gentleman scattered for some beer, but appeared sketchy and ended up getting kicked off the older man’s stoop.

I sat, legs crossed, ears open, just listening to the man speak. Sweat dripping off his greasy, long gray hair, meandering through his scruffy beard as it plopped onto the ground from his chin. The disheveled man hit the end of the road no doubt, but still experienced much of life that many others never will in their lifetime. Flying signs made him end up in Breckenridge when he was headed for Hawaii. Many years of hitch hiking, spangeing and working corners and he ended up in a ritzy town with snow, cold air and mountains all around him.

We never got into where he slept on cold nights, but after bumping into him today I learned the cops hassled him a few days ago and ended up giving him a citation. His court date is in a few weeks.

It sucks that the homeless are treated like this. I thought about giving this man some of my extra travel gear since I won’t need it when I leave.

He mentioned fighting for your rights in the constitution and never giving into anything just because that’s the way the majority sees it fit. I always have interesting conversations with this guy.

Today I learned back when he was bumming in Florida he met the original drummer from the band Classics IV.  The man got drafted and left the band without any choice. The song he came up with “Spooky” wound up becoming a huge hit. He missed out on his dream because of our government. The Man bought him a guitar before they parted ways. Hopefully karma put him back on his feet.

I left not much longer after this story to get an eye exam at my appointment.  It’s been an interesting day. My season is definitely over due to stress fractures in my legs, but I plan on getting back into biking and rock climbing to make the rest of the season go by before I spend the summer skydiving in Akron, New York.

Previous articleSally Barbara
Next articleHitchhiking to California