The Entertainer: Changing Times

With changing times, changing people and changing winds, the entertainer had begun to see his position as a musician in a different light. He was more and more aware that playing classical music as a form of public entertainment could be a dangerous occupation, particularly when it meant standing on stage in front of thousands of rough and rowdy people.

“Outdoor stage entertainment used to be fun and exciting for musicians, as well as their audience,” he thought to himself. “People have changed so much over the years. Now, the majority of people at an outdoor concert sit in front of us smoking, drinking and doing drugs. Many of them are rude and arrogant, as well as potentially violent, even as we play for them.”

The entertainer sat on the side of the fountain in the local park and strummed softly on his guitar while he waited for his audience. Sometimes a few people showed up to listen to him play, but so far that day, there had only been one person.

“It seems that many people do not appreciate classical music any longer. The good old days are gone. So much has changed over the last decade.” 

A light breeze suddenly fractured the warm sun rays lighting up his face. “It’s getting chilly.” 

He brushed his long, brown hair back from his face and continued to strum his guitar quietly, now and then, adding a run or two. 

“I love this fountain. Fountain music has always been my life. Trickling water has opened my mind to play in a way that I never would have been able to do otherwise.” He played the recurrent melody of a familiar classical song and hummed along. “I will learn to play it properly, maybe after I play it a thousand times. Each time, I get better at it.”

Reminiscing about the past, the entertainer thought to himself, “I used to be able to make this kind of music onstage and everyone would love it. While I played, I would watch people relax and enjoy the music. They always brought their parents and children. Nowadays, no one wants to take their children or parents to any outdoor concerts. They are concerned about everyone’s safety including their own. The risk of a riot is just too high. What is happening to our world?”

Frustrated and angry, the entertainer made a fist with his left hand noting the stiffness in his fingers. He stopped playing and rubbed his hands together.

“I have to keep practicing my chords and fingering,” he decided. “If I don’t, I stand to lose all of my guitar skills. I may forget my music too, and no longer be able to play.”

The sweet, sad, classical song he played next, reflected his life, pain and sorrow. He was in his mid-fifties. His wife had walked away from their marriage several years earlier, because she could not stand being alone every weekend, while he went out and played for outdoor concerts. No longer could she sit in the audience while he played  either, as there was an increasing likelihood of being harassed because she was alone. Their four children were grown up, had married and moved to another part of the country. Even their old terrier had passed away. Now the entertainer was completely alone, his sole companion, the guitar. 

  

The wind was rising quickly and the air becoming quite cool.

He pulled out his thermos and sipped his coffee.

“You are my best friend,” he said, patting his guitar. “I need to change your strings, but I think I had better do that at home where it is warmer.”

His battered guitar case lay open on the ground.

Early that morning, a gracious, elderly woman, strolling through the park, had tossed one coin into it and thanked him for playing their wedding song. It was the first song she and her husband had danced to at their wedding. Now it was her song, as he was long departed.

“She reminded me of why I do this,” he thought. “I needed that little boost today.”

The single act of kindness also made him think about his youth. A natural born entertainer, he had put himself through school, playing an old guitar outside the local auditorium to entice people to purchase concert memberships. At that time, there were only a few, faithful concert members, as almost no one could afford to buy concert hall passes. When he sold a membership, he received a dollar for each person who signed up. With the money he earned, the entertainer bought his books and paid his college tuition. It was never a lot of money, but somehow, he had graduated.

As the entertainer continued playing, the sky gradually turned a greenish, gray color. Clouds began billowing and racing across the sky. Dust started to swirl all around him.

He covered his face with his scarf.  

“This will pass.”

Soon, the entertainer zipped his jacket and put his collar up. He pulled his white, woolen hat down around his ears and wrapped his scarf more tightly.

“Sir, you had better head on home,” suggested the park attendant, who stopped by every afternoon to check on him. “We are getting into some bad weather, very quickly.”

“I was just thinking about that,” said the entertainer. “It is getting too cold to play, anyhow. There is no one around now.  I have only seen one person all day.”

Shortly thereafter, a violent tornado tore through the park, uprooting the trees, ripping apart the buildings and totally demolishing the fountain.

“Changing times, changing people and changing winds of time,” said the entertainer, as he surveyed the damage, the following day.

“My fountain is gone,” he said sadly. “I should write a song about it.”

No longer was there a place for the entertainer to play his guitar in the park.

“Where is the entertainer?” a young boy asked the park attendant, the following week. “I am worried about him, because he is not here any more.”

“The fountain is gone, too,” replied the park attendant. "It's too bad because he made a lot of people happy."

“He taught me how to play some chords,” said the young boy. “When I am big, I am going to do what he does, play guitar for people in the park.” 

“That may not be possible,” replied the park attendant. “This park is going to be converted to office buildings and a parking lot, very shortly.”   

“Then, I will find another park,” replied the boy. “Everyone loves classical guitar music. That is something that is never going to change.”  

Tears came to the eyes of the entertainer, a little while later, when the parking lot attendant told him what the young boy had said.

“When you see him again, give him my telephone number. I have a guitar for him.”