Digger Don't Take No Requests

By John Teehan

Digger busks on the moon for spare change, but wheels and deals among the other Concourse folk for a living. He's just biding his time, however, until the perfect opportunity comes along...

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Teehan
• Release date: Mar 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301865949

John Teehan

John Teehan is a writer, artist, musician, and all-round stand-up sort of guy, ya know? He hails from the wild salt marshes of West Warwick, RI where he can be often found taunting sleeping dragons and mooning passing spaceships. Yeah... the town council isn't sure what to do about all of that.

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Digger Don't Take No Requests

by John Teehan

Copyright 2013 John Teehan

Smashwords Edition

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Four years, 8 months, 23 days

So I’m flatpicking up a bit of Foggy Mountain Breakdown, enjoying the hell out of it, and finish with a trademark Doc Watson run. Got lots of people gathered around me by the observation deck; touries, techies, goonies and moonies on their way back and forth between here and the Concourse. Good crowd, and there be a couple of touriefems giving me a friendly eye. It’s while I’m considering the possibilities that I click on this one nervous little moonunit in a sloppy jumpsuit hanging around the edge of the crowd. I can spell the trouble with this unit.

S-p-a-z-n-i-k.

I do a little patter about the Old Man on the Moon and how I met him my first week Up Here and how he taught me this next song which is nothing more than an old whaling song with some of the words changed. One grinning tourie recognizes the tune and whispers something to his ladyfriend. I send them a wink before the end of the song to let them in on the joke and figure the guy’ll drop an extra dollie or two in the tin for making him look clever in front of his lady.

Never hurts to let the paying public feel good about themselves. Hell, it’s the very soul of busking. Okay, the money is the heart of it, and the fun is in playing, but the soul is in the way people gather around and just gig.

I pick through and finish up another song to a scatter of applause, little kids jumping high over their parents heads to see me-enjoying the hell out of the lighter gravity-when I catch a cough from a uniformed loonie