I was hanging out with my friend Daniel and we had just eaten at Rasta Pasta (the tastiest Jamaican-inspired pasta I’ve ever had). Daniel had to cross the street to plug a quarter in the parking meter in front of his car. I was waiting on the other side of the street, when I noticed this guy crossing the street and shouting at me.

“Hey! Hey, man!”


“What’s up!”

“I need a harmonica, man!”

I’ve never had someone approach me asking for a harmonica. I was intrigued.

I shook his hand, “What’s your name, man?”


We went into a nearby toy store and bought a red harmonica (in the key of C) for the man named Donnie that we met on the street. Donnie was super pumped.

“Look at this colour! I didn’t even look at it before we got it! Look- it’s like a brand new coat!”

He was stompin’ and riffing on that harp. His passion is grin-inducing. He stops to breathe…

“I’m not Loony Toons. That’s not Loony Toons. That’s called improvisation. It takes a real musician to improvise.”

He had me film this bright, shiny, red Volkswagen Karmann Ghia (that matched his harmonica) with his little camera while he played some more. We were both wearing denim shirts. That made us friends.

He was about to get a picture of us together but then said,

“I don’t want to be filmed, you don’t want to be filmed. LET THEM WONDER! Let the people wonder who the artist is! Let them wonder who the musician is. Let them fill it in with the imaginations in their minds!”

It was about time for us to go.

“One more?”

“One more.”

Keep it real, Donnie.