An older hippie, pretending to be blind, the round reflective glasses, the positioning of his collapsible chair, if the light is right you can see that his eyes are alive and working, he's just pretending, a folding chair set up in close proximity to somebody's car or Oso or just off Baker Street, playing, not even badly, not even wrong, he's just pushing buttons and squeezing it, tuneless, cacophony, he's the sympathy busker, people give him money in the hopes that he gets some lessons, but that's not his game, he has no interest in playing, he probably picked up the accordion from a free bin around town, it's been weeks now I've seen him and I'm a better accordionist when I play - and I can't'; he's just preying upon the local liberals and kind-hearted fellow hippies, gullible tourists, the sympathy busker "See what happens if you don't take lessons?"...he's probably making a killing...
A miscellany of completely unrelated thoughts...