Another cool autumn day brought me back to the park.  A begging Buddhist stood in front of the wood anemone, so no score today.  Glancing south, I saw the sprinklers hard at work on the open field; and farther south, three cranes lifted 3 towers ever higher in the sky, contributing to the dwarfing of Central Park South.

At Bethesda Fountain, the cowboy sang “Just the Way You Are” (Billy Joel, 1977), including backup singers and a horn solo.  When he sat down, I stood up and soon got a 51-cent donation from a man off the bench.

“Have you got time for a hula today?” I asked 2 hand-holding men.  One, the elder, perhaps in his 40s, had wavy blonde hair and made me guess where they were from.  “Amsterdam,” I got it on the 3^rd try.  They walked off, but came back later and gave me a 10 Euro bill, which I bought from myself for $12.

While conducting this foreign exchange, a young man walking by gave me a dollar, and a couple who had been listening on the bench did the same.

Three Norwegian children, who had ridden into the fountain area with their parents, got off their bikes and wandered my way.  It didn’t take long to get leis around their necks and to get them dancing to “The Hukilau Song.”  While we danced, another bench listener came forward with 85 cents.

A tall black woman from Toronto danced a tentative hula, then walked away.  Two separate Hawaiians walked away too.  The man, a transplant from New Jersey, took out his wallet and waved his driver’s license at me.  The woman was native, danced a perfect hula to “The Hukilau Song,” then ran off to catch up with her friends.

A mid-teen and her mom stopped to listen.  “I have 4 ukes,” the girl told me.  They were from Dallas.  I handed her my uke and she strummed out a sweet song.

“Stay with it,” I advised.  Her mom nodded assent.  “When you think you’re ready, quit school, hit the road…”

“Stop talking,” said mom.

“…and make your living…”

“Don’t listen.”

“…like me.”

At the end of my set, a woman came off the bench with $2.  She and her husband had been observing.  An American, she lived in The Hague, and got back as often as possible.  The Netherlands had contributed 14 of the $19.63 in my case, so instead of “Aloha,” I said, “Vaarwel.”