There is a new homeless person, a young woman, playing guitar at Strawberry Fields. That makes at least four, who seem to have worked out a rotation, with one on the bench by the Imagine mosaic, one on the rock with the country plaque just to the east, and two on deck. They pretty much stick to the Beatles songbook.

The horse chestnut tree looks awful. The leaves are browning fast; if there are chestnuts forming, despite the blight, I can’t see them.

The day is perfect, low humidity, temp around 80, cool breeze off the lake, lots of people hanging out around the fountain. With my hat, and with SPF 70 on my arms, legs and face, I set up on center stage and go into my act, which, appropriately, I begin with “Sunday,” which begins with the lyric, “I’m blue every Monday.”

“Have you got time for a hula today?” There are no takers. Across from me sat 3 college-aged girls. “How about a hula?” I called over to them. They just needed to be asked. Two were from Scotland, the other from Australia. Their hula was slow and seductive, at the end of which they returned their leis and went back to the bench. It looked to be another egregious walk-away, but moments later they returned, each putting a dollar in my case.

A young couple wearing Rutgers tee shirts dropped a buck and did a spirited dance, with turns and dips, jumps and stomps. They had such a good time they added an additional 2 bucks to the growing pile of singles. An Asian woman tried to hula, but didn’t have a clue; her Brazilian boyfriend, after a little coaxing, stepped in and showed her. A wispy Hispanic girl, perhaps 7-8 years old, approached. “Would you like to hula?” I asked.

“With pleasure.” She had energy, grace and imagination – the sort of kid who stars in “Annie” on Broadway. Her uncle asked for change of a 20, and left a fiver.

An Israeli woman skipped toward me with a toddler in her arms. Unable to stand the toddler on her own two feet, the woman hulaed with the child in her arms. An Englishman stopped to talk about George Formby, as almost every Englishman has since I started busking in 2007. Between and during dances, individual men, women and children contributed their loose change.

While counting my take at the end of the set, a teenage girl walked up to me. “I heard your music and really like it,” handing me another dollar.

As pleased as I was with the $18.67 in my pocket, a day like today is priceless. And to top things off, I got a call from Martina, the cable tv lady from the M104. We tape on 9/8.