Street to internet to 11 million hits.

So you're walking about on a sunny day in the weekend in Fremantle, the Port of Perth Australia and as is usual there are various creative tinkerers plying their trades on the sidewalk. Here's one guy playing a 12 string and the atmosphere round him is palpable as others have stopped to listen and are being transported elsewhere while listening.

So you stop yourself and watch but watching fades to listening and then listening becomes all for an undefined period and you fight it with part of your mind because this after all is just some busker and this is just part of your afternoon on a sunny day in the weekend but you cannot move on until it's over and when it is and the musician looks up and smiles at his job well done you are once again back where you are, yet it seems that undefined period you went to a far away place and have just returned. You might drop him a coin, you might not but part of you has changed forever and that's the power of being open on the street.

Now translated to the internet and this same piece by the same person gets eleven million viewers.

Regulars, Perth.

I had a 4 year relationship with this man. He had brain damage from a car accident in his youth and a walk that suggested a former broken hip.

He always wore the same hat.

A barrow Florist would give him damaged flowers and he would walk around the inner city giving them away.

(Who wouldn't sacrifice a bit of brain damage for the opportunity to walk round town leering quite openly at women, thrusting wilting flowers in their faces.)

His benefit to me was that he would always do the same thing,

He would limp slowly up to my corner, head down, seemingly oblivious to the audience and the rising tension until,

at the corner he would stop and without looking up raise his left hand high in the air

and flip me the finger.

He'd then limp off. He had great timing.

I could create a ball and spin it on my finger and then transfer it to his

knowing exactly when his hand would shoot up and the finger appear.

I remember I impaled a stuffed toy on his finger by its butt once.

He didn't like that.

I showered him with petals , he quite liked that

I bent suddenly as he passed and pretended he'd poked me in the eye with his offending digit, he didn't notice that one, even funnier.

Most of the time I just highlighted his one moment, he got his laugh and chuckled off.

He was a regular.

Another regular was a nurse 50s, she'd approach pretending to read and then squeal and jump sideways,

always got a huge laugh, she'd also sometimes borrow motorized carts from the hospital

and motor 3 blocks into the mall past me and swerve out onto two wheels,

she was a hoot.

I had another old woman that I could tempt to dance easily.

She'd light up in front of 200 plus people, dancing with the tall clown.

Another elderly woman who did a great job of acting angry and attacking me with her stick about once a fortnight,

I'd cower behind my flyswat terrified, she thoroughly intimidated me and the audience loved it.

She spluttered convincingly. We were both seasoned professionals.