The day was almost perfect, temperature hovering around 80, pillowy white clouds, cool breezes, and humidity down to comfortable levels. I even wore a hat today, so the direct sun exposure at the fountain didn’t bake my brain. The fountain area, however, was already occupied by The Hong Kong Dragon Boat Festival, for their annual awakening ceremony. In addition to the dragon boat itself, a long canoe-like vessel, there was a press table and a PA system, all under the sponsorship of HSBC and others.

“You do know that HSBC is an admitted drug-money launderer?” I asked a young man at the press table. He pretended he did not, so I explained it to him.

“Oh, well,” he said, “as long as they give some of that money to us.” I had to laugh. These dragon boaters knew on which side their bread was buttered, or whatever the equivalent Chinese idiom.

There would be no center stage today. As I moved on toward my maple, I said hello to Nick, the handwriting analyst, who, weeks ago, had been displaced by a wire fence intended to protect the reseeded lawn. Today he set out his table and chairs near the bench.

A young woman gave me a dollar within seconds of my first song. I had a hula dancer and a reluctant hula wannabe, then a dapper gentleman walking with a single hospital-issued crutch stopped to listen. He dropped a buck, but stayed to hear more. Seeing my CD, he asked how much.

“Ten dollars,” I said. I made change of twenty out of my wallet. This was indeed a very fine day.

Here came the bride, in her short red hair and long white dress, carrying a bouquet of cream colored roses. I broke into “The Hawaiian Wedding Song.” They held hands as I sang to them.

A young couple stopped. “We just married,” said the man. “Five days ago, in Italy.”

“This is our 10th anniversary,” said the bride. The Italian handed me his camera so I should take a picture of all this marital bliss. The bride gave me her camera too. With all the posing and camera-swapping, it looked as if they had forgotten about me, but in the end the groom coughed up $2.

After my set I walked back past the fountain. The dragon boat was gone, but another table had been set up next to the stairs just outside the tunnel. I walked a little closer to read the sign: Prayer Station. There were a number of books and pamphlets arrayed in front of 2 teenage boys, one of whom gave me a wide smile.

“What’s this?” I growled at him.

“What can we pray for you today?”

“You can pray that god and religion will stay out of our public spaces,” I told him. I drew a breath to say more, but settled for a sincere “Aloha” and continued home.