1. A Birthday Hula

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    September 15, 2016 by admin

    The London Plane trees that line the path from Strawberry Fields to Bethesda Fountain have turned a lime green. The bark is peeling and the leaves are wilted at the tips. Autumn has also arrived at the dogwood; the browning leaves curl to reveal the forming fruit. At the Imagine Mosaic, the guitarist sings, “Here Comes the Sun.”

    The day is hot and humid. I give a thumbs-up to the Chinese man playing the one-string instrument. I meant to indicate the volume level on his amplifier was ok with me. After playing for a short time, I noticed that he’d gone.

    A half-dozen 20-something women headed back to work after a birthday lunch. One, Karen, wore a giant button and a glittering tiara. “How about a hula for the birthday girl?”

    After much discussion, with emphatic demurrals, one of the women said, “How much for a lei?”

    Normally, I would not sell my means of production, but in this case I said, “Three dollars.”

    She dug in her wallet and came up with a fiver. I had no singles in my wallet, and was reluctant to give her my shill money, the 2 singles I keep in my case to prime the pump.

    “How about a picture?” another woman said. I put a lei on Karen, who started to hula despite herself. Afterward, she returned the lei, which I gave to the first woman, who put it back on Karen. I had decided to use the shill money for change, but the first woman waved it away.

    A man gave me a dollar as he walked by.

    A family from Minnesota posed as they threw coins into the fountain. When asked, they had time for a hula. A bored dad took a few pics, then wandered off to hear the doo-wop sextet in the arcade, while mom and 2 daughters went to the hukilau. For her fiver, mom not only got a dance, she got sight-seeing advice from Mr. Ukulele.

    A father and daughter, sitting on the steps, stood up to leave. The father put a tightly folded dollar in my case.

    A little girl sat by the fountain with her family. “Have you got time for a hula today?” She shook her head no. A little later, she put a dollar in my case. “Have you got time now?” Again, she shook her head.

    As they walked off, she turned to wave goodbye to me. “Aloha,” she said.

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  2. A Change of Seasons

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    September 14, 2016 by admin

    The autumnal lantana, all oranges and yellows, were met by splashes of red from the begonia and cleome. The reliable rose bushes had more orange hips than red blossoms. At the Imagine Mosaic, Michaelmas daisies spread through the undergrowth. The guitarist sang “Love Me Do.”

    The chestnut darkens more every time I see it. The pods on the catalpa are 18 inches long; they hang from the high branches like Spanish moss. There are fewer children in the park, a sure sign of the changing season.

    At Bethesda Fountain, tucked into a corner at the bottom of the stairs, a woman wailed into a microphone, in the style of junkie torch singers. Her amplification equipment was strewn at her feet. Beyond melody and lyric, without accompaniment, she scratched out a music of her own.

    At the south end of the fountain, the cowboy was still at it. I nodded and kept walking.

    “My fingers hurt,” he said. “One more song and I’m gone.”

    While he finished up, I laid out my paraphernalia and tuned up.

    For many years, I’ve watched a well-dressed man, with a clipboard and credentials around his neck, approach people and ask for donations to his cause, Covenant House, a support organization for homeless youth. At first, I pegged him for a scam artist. After all these years, however, I believe he’s legit. We rarely exchange more than a nod of recognition, but today he grinned, said, “I’d like to give you something,” and dropped 4 quarters in my case.

    Two old ladies, who had been sitting on the bench, gave me a dollar a piece.

    Two young ladies, dressed in black, walked by. “Have you got time for a hula today?” They were from Lithuania. Their English was perfect; their hulas were not. After a few bars of “The Hukilau Song,” they gave it up, started dancing free-style and attracted a small audience. I got a dollar a dancer.

    A woman walked by and said, “You’re a lot better than that other one,” jerking her head toward the tortured torch singer.

    Later in my set, a man came off the bench and threw in a buck, making it, in toto, a $6 day.

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  3. What a Delight

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    September 9, 2016 by admin

    Correction: The cleome behind the benches at Women’s Gate are not yet dead, as reported yesterday. They must have been watered after I left the park and have sprung back to life. There even appears to be some new growth. For the astilbe, alas, there was no resurrection.

    It is Fashion Week in NYC; the park sported many more willowy blondes than usual. One of them, in a purple summer dress with heavy black shoes, started me off with $1.25, including a Susan B.

    I played in the sun by Bethesda Fountain for 90 minutes. More hot and humid than is really good for me, I stopped for water breaks every 20 rather than my usual 30 minutes. Three women tossed change in the fountain nearby. One of them, from California, said, “I love the ukulele. I’ve been playing one for about a year.”

    “So how about a hula? Then we’ll see what you can do.”

    She peeled a fiver from a wad of bills in her purse. “Little Grass Shack?” she requested.

    She danced beautifully, with all the hand motions apropos to the lyric. When I handed her my uke, she strummed a few practice chords, then softly sang a jazzy version of “Dream a Little Dream of Me.” I sang even softer backup.

    A young bearded man in a cap, a Turk, stood a few feet in front of me and shot video. I gave him a show; he gave me 51 cents.

    A group of teenagers from Ecuador happily danced to “The Hukilau Song.” They just as happily walked away.

    A trim 40-something man in a white suit and panama hat put a dollar in my case. A 60-something woman, who had been listening from the shade of the benches, gave me a dollar and said, “What a delight to hear you on this fine afternoon.”

    Aloha to that.

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