There's a fine line between insanity and being a Croatian genius street performer scooting around with all kinds of contraptions and gadgets hooked into you. And plus one point for making it funny, as this guy did:
You have to question what universe you're even in after watching a guy with an IQ of 160 choose a kazoo as one of his lead instruments and an elven hat to collect donations. If this guy isn't a hobbit then he's missing a good chance.
At first, I thought he was shuffling around because he had to go potty, then I saw the little bells and tambourines. It was only later in the video when I noticed he had his legs rigged up to a bass drum on his back. He even managed to make the harmonica not be annoying, for the most part. I'd give him a Nobel Peace Prize if I could, but then he'd be tempted to bust out an accordion and I just can't have that. I'm not sure what type of acoustic guitar that is but it looks like an Ovation without a rounded back.
He even has a bicycle horn and bell! Every time he got a donation he'd ring the bell. Hey, it do what it do. The kids loved it. I just hope his amp doesn't fall off his shoulders and smush someone's pet dog. No amount of cash in the Grinch who stole Christmas' hat can pay for psychological damages, but it could definitely alleviate my pain.
I just found an image of this guy's ancestor from days of yore...
As we uphold the dreams and passion of our ancestors, we only lend more credence to the idea of genetic memory... Who would have thought the one man band would come back in style.
I feel like this entire scene could be the opening sequence to a really twisted psychological horror movie. This guy thinks he's shuffling around downtown, entertaining the passerby's as the children tug on their parent's shirts for a nickel to toss into his hat. Any excuse to get closer, see his instruments, and have a chance to smell the daisies attached about his arsenal of instruments.
Then suddenly we stop seeing the scene from his point of view, but from the impartial viewpoint of the movie watcher, who see's he's dressed in white scrubs prancing around a padded cell, screaming and giggling at the top of his lungs as he draws guitars, harmonicas, and daisies on the wall with a black crayon. Every once in a while he screams "Ching ching! Thanks for the donation! Put it in the hat!" as he finishes eating what remains of his right pinky finger.
Or maybe I'm projecting onto this guy and I belong in a padded cell because that story was pretty creepy. But was it creepier than being a one-man electric kazoo band? It's a hard call. Let me know by writing me fan mail, addressed to Jared at the Ledger Note asylum.