I got to Bethesda Fountain just as the cowboy was packing up his guitar and amplifier.  “Good timing,” I called, as I unloaded my paraphernalia.  This was the third glorious August day in a row.  The park was packed.

A thin young man wearing a yarmulke got me started during my opening number, “Sunday.”  An Hispanic woman added her dollar during “Fit as a Fiddle.”  During the course of my set, she walked by several times, each time pointing to my case and reminding me, “I gave already.”

A man gave me 50 cents for a picture.  “Did you get a good one?  Now how about a hula?”  He smiled, “No.”

A young Chinese boy wandered from his family, who were taking pictures of each other in every permutation.  “Have you got time for a hula today?”

He didn’t seem to understand and returned to his family, only to come back a moment later with a fiver.  One of the women (his mother?) wanted a picture, so I put a lei around the boy’s neck and posed.  Then grandma wanted to join in, and soon the family, properly lei-ed, was working through their photo permutations again.

A woman came off the bench and gave me $2.  Various passers-by dropped their singles, but no one, so far, had time for a hula.

Then, toward the end of my set, 2 large women negotiated who would dance and who would work the camera.  After the first verse of “The Hukilau Song,” the photographer lamented that she could not get the video recorder to work.  So we halted for instruction, then moved on to the second verse, which, as indicated by a thumbs-up, was a keeper.

A man on the bench had been observing the last 15-20 minutes of my act.  As I packed up, he walked over and sat down.  He was newly retired, and had just lost his mother.  Today was his first time out of the apartment in a month.  He watched me count out the day’s take, $15.50.  “Here, let me add to that,” he said, pulling a single from his wallet.  “You spread a lot of joy today.”