Things started out this week where they left off last week.  The gardeners had taken the weekend off, so the pall of death in the garden had advanced to the pall of decay.  Here and there, however, the pale purple herb robert (said like a Frenchman) poked its head up, and the solomon’s seal was still going strong.  Salmon and white azalea punctuated the lawns and intersections.

The day, as cold as last week, with the same cumulus clouds in a clear blue sky, felt somehow brighter.  A strong wind caused people to hold onto their hats.  The skinny branches of the paulownia tree, in full bloom, waved its lavender panicles at me.  And across the road from the chestnut, lit up like a Christmas tree with its white catkins, was another chestnut.  We’ll see if it too has the blight.  (I recently learned that the blight, while effecting the tree’s appearance, won’t kill it; it was the same place I learned the difference between a panicle and a catkin.)

I set up at Bethesda Fountain.  Having anchored the leis and sheltered the hula girls, I began my set.  Before too long, a young man pulled a dollar from his wallet and tossed it into my case.  It immediately blew away, but he grabbed it, like a goalie, then tucked it under the capo I keep to hold things down.

A man wanted to buy a hula girl for his girlfriend.  “How much?”

Ordinarily I don’t sell the hula girls; I consider them, like leis, part of the act, but the girlfriend seemed to want it, so I said “Five dollars.”  They discussed it and agreed.  I let her pick out the color; she chose green.  The man handed me a twenty and asked for change.  I only had twenties and a ten in my wallet.  “Ten dollars?  No, seven?” I said, indicating the 3 singles in my case.  He said he’d get change from the hot dog man and come back.  He didn’t.

Marcel and Maggie the dog came down the path together.  Maggie took a seat and waited for me to play, which, after a brief chat with Marcel, I did.  Maggie is the center of attention wherever she goes; it’s tough to hustle for hulas when she’s around.  Marcel, I think, senses this; when she didn’t budge with a tug on the leash, he picked her up and carried her away.

A teenager from Argentina was delighted to hula.  He mugged for his friends, gave me back the lei and walked away.

An exotic 30-something woman and her boyfriend walked by.  “Have you got time for a hula today?”

“Of course, I do.”  She peeled off to dance with me while her boyfriend walked on.  After a short lesson, she went to the hukilau.  With mixture of classical Indian dance and hula, she swayed through 2 verses and managed to attract a crowd; her boyfriend was there at the end taking pictures.  She gave me $3 and a hug.  “That was so much fun,” she said.

Yeah, I thought, for me too.