Too Hot to Hula
0June 24, 2015 by admin
Monday’s temperature was in the high 80’s and Tuesday’s broke 90. Nevertheless, properly SPFed, hatted and hydrated, I made my way to the shade of the maple. The crowds were thin. Three men walked by. They stopped to listen, then, after a long negotiation, a dollar appeared and floated into my case. Sometime later, a set of 40-something parents handed their toddler over to me. While the kid and I did the hula, the parents retreated to check their cellphones.
At the end of the set, I had 2 singles and a penny in my case. The penny was either an accidental contribution stuck to a bill, or a comment from one of the many people who failed to be charmed by my performance.
The next day started out no better. I checked in on the chestnut tree to see how it was faring. Spikey golfball-sized nuts had formed, looking like World War II mines. Throughout the tree, one or two lobes on every leaf had dark spots caused by the blight.
The sprinklers were turned on in various sections of the landscape. Children were running through the spray by the white rhododendron to keep cool.
Center stage was uncontested, but to play there today seemed suicidal. A school group of young adolescents stopped to hula. They came up with $3 of their own money. A man took a video of the complete “Honolulu Eyes,” then dug out 4 quarters for me. A woman from Montreal encouraged her 2 daughters to dance. One of them waved her arms and shook her body, as if possessed, while her sister slowly turned in circles. Four kids from the Bronx did a creditable dance. Passersby stopped to watch, and then, in the purest form of Aloha, a middle-aged woman paid their way with a dollar.
I felt my bad luck of yesterday had changed when a lady from Louisiana, newly relocated to NYC, had to hula. By the end of the set, I had $14. I took off my hat to wipe my brow and saw that sweat had soaked my hat to within an inch of the top, a plimsoll line of perspiration. And, for good luck, walking under the oak tree just off the path leading back to the fountain, an acorn hit me in the head.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Honolulu Eyes
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