Despite another gorgeous day, I skipped center stage for the shaded comfort of my spot on the path. Two days in a row in the sun was enough. On my way I stopped to chat with Meta, whom I haven’t seen in weeks. She’d been away, visiting her kids, of whom there are at least six. While we gloried in how beautiful a summer it’s been so far, Meta confessed to exhaustion. “To be honest,” she said, “I wish it would rain already.”

A park worker was hooking up the sprinklers by my spot. Together, we adjusted the arc of water so I, or my dancers, wouldn’t get wet. Unfortunately, the sprinkler ended up in a patch of myrtle on a hillside, and, with each sweep, inched downward, ever closer. I moved to the other side of the path and was able to play my complete set, dry as toast, before the water reached my feet.

Two couples made their way past me toward the boathouse. “Have you got time for a hula today?”

One of the women stopped while the others walked on. “Can you play the Hukilau?” she asked. Can I! “Let’s make it quick,” she added. “My husband’s in a hurry.”

After a single verse, she handed back the lei and hurried toward her husband and friends. Hula walk-aways do have their uses, however, because a group of picnickers, seeing the dance, got the right idea. A young blond man in a yarmulke, came running, with 3 of his buddies behind. “I love the ukulele,” he said, reaching for a lei. Soon the four of them were dancing up a storm. “Brilliant,” they repeated to each other. “Brilliant.” When they thanked me and returned to their group, my case was still empty. It looked like another walkaway, but the young man soon returned with a fiver. He was with a Jewish youth group from London and had totally fallen in love with New York.

A young woman walked by and dropped a dollar, followed by a little boy who dug into his pocket and pulled out 8 pennies. A little later, a Chinese woman pointed her camera at me for the length of “I Saw Stars.” At the end of the song I invited her to hula, but she couldn’t, she told me, as this was a live broadcast to China. “Would you like to say something to the Chinese people?”

“I wish you all health, happiness, and a lifetime of aloha. Now everyone get up and hula.”

“Hula? What is hula?”

“The native dance of Hawaii.”

“And aloe?”

“Aloha, a word for hello, good-bye, and universal good-feeling among all people.” The woman started to translate, then moved on, as if we’d gone to commercial break.

A little boy of 3 or 4 eagerly put on a lei. I launched into “The Hukilau Song,” but he stood, feet planted on the ground, stiff and straight. Only his hands moved. This hula consisted of flapping wrists and nothing else. His parents were delighted and gave me $3.

With the sprinkler almost on me, I closed up shop with $15.08 in my pocket. The last 3 days have been off the charts. To be honest, I wish it would never rain.