Onetime, while in Luzern, Switzerland, I met a fellow minstrel by the name of Leo from Zimbabwe. He told me of this Swiss man who lived there in the historic district who had focused on him all summer long. He always gave Leo "what for" whenever he happened to be performing outside of the 5 to 10p.m. rules. During the course of the winter, Leo had gone to sunny Greece and now I found myself in his former shoes. The Swiss man had shifted his attention from Leo to me.

I would be performing my show at the bottom of the stairs where many buskers had carried on throughout the years. He would come up to remind me whenever he could that the Swiss have rules for everything. He pointed out the printed rules and noted I was not playing in the allotted time slot. This went on for a period of about two weeks when I really needed the money. I was paying U$15 a night for a place to snore and didn't have much choice at the time. I had to perform when I could now that it was the holidays with Christmas and New Years right around the corner.

I was staying at the local Youth hostel with a strange brew of Lebanon refugees and tourists from everywhere - the States, Japan, Italy, more refugees from Yugoslavia, and the former East Germany. It was interesting when they socialized. Here were the Lebanonese living in some outlandish place meeting some dizzy young American females from California having a "fab" time. A bridge of flimsey language but truly worlds apart.

Well, it just so happened that Christmas Eve rolled around. There was this big, beautiful, tall, fully decorated, white-lit Christmas tree in the main plaza at the top of the stairs. I was immediately attracted to it and decided to perform right in front of it.

And so, on the cold Swiss night in a city of stone, I started my set in front of my nice warm Christmas tree. Sweet music came forth changing the atmosphere into something very special. With patches of snow all around, people arm-in-arm walked along the narrow cobblestone shopping streets quietly. Frosty streetlamps from another era lit the way and the shops were all aglow with the tinsel and colors of the season.

Add to that now, if you will, music. Heavenly wonderful chords of glorious music. And now, more music! Encumber that shimmering magic that mystifies the senses. The lone minstrel played on...

Everyone liked my show...everyone, that is, except the Swiss man. Every now and then, minstrels come up against some obsessives but now it was Christmas eve and Santa was on his way. As I was performing and selling tapes, the Swiss man once again came up to me. He informed me that I was, once again, breaking the rules. If I didn't go, this time he'd really call the police. To cut down on frivilous calls, the police charge U$200 to respond. The negative vibes he put out were as useful as a Stradivarius with shoestrings.

Then, I performed Tangled Up In Blue with the lyrics "The only thing I knew what to do was to keep on keepin' on". That song was the only thing I knew to do to express my inner frustration. During the song, I saw some of my room-mates here from the States. I needed to make as much money as possible as I was leaving Switzerland in a matter of days. I actually wondered "Will the police take me in?" for playing the blessed music? I would soon find out.

Sure enough, the police arrived and talked with the Swiss man. I thought this was it. Buskers behind bars and all that rot. Maybe they would throw me in the old torture tower like in the dark past.

As I was singing Knock On Heaven's Door, much to my amazement, that ol' minstrel magic had marvelously mesmerized everyone in the square. The police quietly got back in their car and drove away. They had decided, evidently, not to arrest a travelling troubadour on
Christmas eve in front of the city's Christmas tree for all to see.

Then, I realized what may have happened. For once, I had actually been performing within the allotted time slot. The rules had, for
once, worked in my favor and had protected me from the music nazi. The police could do absolutely no-sing!

Now, I could finish my show in the peace and harmony that followed. This one moment in time was one of great joy to the world with the music of Christmas! I felt like George Bailey in the end of It's A Wonderful Life running around and shouting "Merry Christmas everybody!" I could see myself hugging and kissing everyone...even the Swiss man. He was my own personal Mr. Potter. I was filled with so much emotion at the moment, I started singing Jingle Bells. Then, as the night went on, everything once again became tranquil and I began the finale of this evening's performance.

And through the nippy night air, the songs seemed to go out and touch these humans in this becalmed place. As the streetlights burned brightly into the night, it suddenly began snowing. These huge white snowflakes falling from Heaven above on this calm still Christmas eve was icing on the cake. It was as quiet as a Swiss bank on Sunday and through some unseen power, the magical mystical minstrel had done it yet again.

Later that night, my roomies just stared at me when I walked in the room. They called me a wildman and asked how long had I been here. I replied 6 months and we all burst out laughing. As I gazed out the window at the falling snow, I noticed my watch was just past midnight. It was Christmas.