(Singing in background) (♪) Who gave you those? (♪)
-My name is Glen “Pops” Freeman.
I'm a street musician living here in Seattle
now, for the last 35 years, and I write my own music.
I play percussion and sing, my choice of instruments
is a water bottle. (Indistinguishable singing)
(♪) And he gave you his heart. (♪)
It's entertainment.
People like to be entertained.
(Singing upbeat song in background) They like the fact that it's
personal interaction, like a personal concert.
I grew up in San Diego, California,
grew up in a junkyard.
My mother had 14 children.
I never met my dad.
I've never really even seen a picture of my dad.
His name was Thomas Freeman.
You know, matter of fact,
I have a poem I've written about him.
It's called “The Man I Never Knew”
‘You would have had to have been cool.
You would have had to have been real damn cool,
good looking, smart and a damn good hustler, too.
Because I know my Momma and she wouldn't
have fell for no fool. But you're just a man
I never knew.’
(♪) Now, my mom always said she loved
you,
and she loved her, too.
And if you did, what would make you leave
You leave her and your family too?
Turn your back, never look back.
What were you running from?
What were you running to?
You’re just the man that I never
knew. (♪)
-I first met Pops in The Rendezvous.
I was probably sitting here or here, and Pops came up to me
and asked if I would like him to do a poem.
And I said, ‘Sure’.
He did a poem for me called “Broken Glass.”
-My love is cut now.
It has cut completely through
as I try to hold the broken edge of you.
And I'm unable to see through the lie or find the truth.
So of my love
now all remains are shattered
feelings, broken window panes.
And when I think
of what we had, my heart's like fragments, broken glass.
-When Pops performed this piece for me,
I was speechless.
It was beautiful.
He played to an audience of one.
He connected like this.
-I come in here, I mean, and I feel like I'm at home.
And she is the person that is the nucleus of this place.
And she holds it up and she she makes me
feel as if I am always welcome here.
And she speaks to everyone.
‘Oh, you should hear Pops!’
She's my number one fan,
I think I would like to say.
I'm Glen “Pops” Freeman, I'm a street musician.
I've written an original song every single day
for three and a half years and a poem a week.
-Wherever he is, whenever he talks to you, he's
100% in the moment and he brings
love and light and generosity
and authenticity every single time he talks.
I've never seen anything else from him.
-This is the story of my grandmother's ‘52 Chevy.
(♪) My grandma used
to drive this old
beat up green, ‘52
Chevy.
With the dents in the side.
The one
headlight. (♪)
See my songs I keep, when I play at about one minute.
The reason is that's how long it takes the light to change.
(Laughs)
(Indistinguishable singing)
I'm planning on this trip home to San Diego.
And this is one of the things that I'm
in the process of dealing with.
I left.
Never really went back.
35 years I've been here.
When I left San Diego, I had been going out with
a woman.
And one day I was up here and someone
I ran to from San Diego.
We got to talkin’.
‘Did you know you had a daughter?’ I went, ‘Nope.’
And I said, ‘Well, I
should probably go down there and see her.’ Yeah well,
Yeah. I never went.
Never went, never went, never went. Now I’m gonna go.
I'm doing this concert at the Rendezvous here
to raise money to support this trip.
I'm homeless.
I'm hoping to make enough from this show
in order to pay my needs to go down there.
But if I don't have a dime, I'm still going.
Backstage at The Rendezvous!
Um, preparing for my concert tonight.
A lot of friends, a lot of love out here.
I'm ready.
Well, hello, everybody.
-Hi Pops!
(♪) It's time to rock. But don’t let go.
But don't let go.
I'm so happy.
I'm near to die.
But don't let go.
Don’t let go. (♪)
(♪) Emancipate yourself
from (indistinguishable)
None but ourselves can
free our minds,
(Crowd singing along) we’ll meet again.
Don't know where,
don't know when.
But I know we’ll meet again
some sunny day. (♪)
My mind's always
searching for the best thing I've ever written.
I'm trying to find the best thing
I've ever written, and I haven't written it yet,
but I'm going to find it.
So I'm always searching for it.
You know, I don't see the sun setting, you know,
I see there's the world spinning one way and the sun
is going the other way and we're just in between.
And I watch the light come, and I watch the light leave.
And I try to figure a way
to put it all into this thought to where you go.
‘Wow, I never seen it that way.’
(Announcement on loudspeaker) -Good morning and welcome to Amtrak.
Passengers
traveling in sleeping cars or Business Class,
please have a seat in the lobby.
-All right.
Thank you, ma'am.
-Pops, this is yours.
(Indisinguishable) -You got your picture on the wall.
It's going to be there when you get back.
-All right,
We're doing it.
-Proud of you.
-I like to catch people off to themselves
when they're walking home
after the bars have closed, and they stop
and they're willing to take the chance.
It's just me and them.
And we're two feet away
and I look at them straight in the eye.
And they look at me straight in the eye.
And I sing them a song.
They go, ‘Wow.’
I love that.
It's more than performing.
It's actually like wrapping
your arms around someone and holding them.
Yeah, that's what it's about.