Posts Tagged ‘Ukulele Lady’
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Two in a Row
0March 11, 2016 by admin
On the Monday after the big storm in January, feeling something like a caged tiger, I set out for the gym, leaped over a snow pile at the corner, fell and broke my leg. I write this now to convey the sheer joy I felt yesterday, bound though I was by a walking boot and cane. Going out with my uke two days in a row approached bliss.
The park retained its overall earthen colors. The sky was mostly gray; warm, wet winds blew the occasional hole in the clouds to let in some sun. I saw more daffs than yesterday. The rose wood was greening, and when I looked hard I saw the nubs of growing tips. Except for the stray forsythia floret, nothing.
The guitar platoon at the Imagine Mosaic is back, if they ever left.
At the foot of the western staircase, where the acrobats work, 2 clown-like guitarists sang and danced to silly songs. They’d set up a cardboard bandstand reading Benny and Griff, and seemed ready to do their show all day. I assessed the situation for conflict. No amplification, no foul. “I play over there,” I told them, gesturing with my cane. They were very nice, they called me “sir.”
After I sang my openers, “Making Love Ukulele Style,” “Sunday,” “Fit as a Fiddle,” “I Saw Stars,” and “Ukulele Lady,” a man my age, who’d been sitting by the water to my left, came up and asked, “Surfboard accident?” He complimented my voice, gave me a dollar and encouraged me to keep up the good work.
A slim, beautiful black woman, close-cropped hair, flowing clothes and bare arms hula-ed toward the benches with her male companion. I encouraged her to put on a lei and do a proper hula, and she did. We went through both verses of “The Hukilau Song,” by which time she’d drawn a crowd. Even her friend was taking pictures. She gave me back the lei and returned to the bench.
An older Asian woman stepped forward and put a dollar in my case. She had been in the crowd and appreciated the expressive beauty of the hula.
The next dancer was a Dallas girl of 7 or 8, who pranced around quite freely while her mother got it on video. Then 3 more Texans, from a teenage tour from El Paso, gave their rendition of the hula. Quite a bit of banter and dollars were exchanged, as their classmates wanted in on what was happening. “You’re my second group from Texas today,” I told them. “Is this Texas in New York Week?”
“It’s a big state,” I was told.
With my final song, “Little Grass Shack,” I sat down to count the day’s haul, $12, then hoisted myself to my feet and started home. At the foot of the stairs, Benny and Griff were still at it.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Benny and Griff, Fit as a Fiddle, I Saw Stars, Imagine Mosaic, Little Grass Shack, Making Love Ukulele Style, Sunday, The Hukilau Song, Ukulele Lady
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Last Licks
0November 17, 2015 by admin
Giant white snowflakes have been hung over Columbus Ave. Along Central Park West, they’ve set up the aluminum grandstand 7 tiers high for the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Inside the park, the crowds are thin, despite the 65 degree weather. The hydrangea behind the benches has turned wine red. On the almost leafless rose bushes, a few pink petals have opened wide, as if asking the sun for a handout; orange hips swell on the lower branches.
At the Imagine Mosaic, the homeless guitarist led the crowd in “Imagine,” encouraging the multi-part harmony with shouts of “lovely, beautiful” between line breaks. Fuzzy buds have lengthened on the tips of magnolia branches. Through the bare trees, I could see the tops of the tall buildings of Mount Sinai Hospital on upper Fifth Ave. In the arcade, the Boyd Family Singers have expanded their repertoire of sacred music to include a few secular Christmas carols.
Andrew, the young guitarist, was packing up when I got to center stage. “I like these European crowds,” he told me. “They drop a five where New Yorkers drop singles.”
A 40-something man gave me a dollar and asked if he could take a picture. “Do you play ‘Ukulele Lady’?” he asked. I told him I’d be getting to it soon. Not soon enough, I suppose, because he wandered away.
A guy and his gal from Brooklyn gave me a fiver and said, “Ok, entertain us.” I had just finished “Fit as a Fiddle,” and launched into “I Saw Stars.” The girlfriend bopped along to the beat, but refused to put on a lei. “How much to come out in a rowboat and serenade us?”
I hesitated. “150 bucks,” I told him, certain that at that rate I would keep my feet dry.
“No, don’t you get it?” he insisted. “You’re missing a great opportunity. People will row up to you from every direction to give you money.”
After haranguing me for a while longer, off they wandered to the boathouse. A man wanted to know if I would stand for a picture with his girlfriend. I put a lei around her neck for the shot. She would not hula.
A little girl came by and wanted to dance. “If it’s ok with your mom,” I said. It was. The girl was at a loss as to what to do, so I put a lei around her mom’s neck and told the girl to follow. It was a charming scene, recorded by several passers-by. Two women, who had been sitting on the bench for a while came by with a dollar.
The first photographer came back. “Thanks for playing ‘Ukulele Lady’,” he said. Marcel walked by with Maggie the dog to say hello, marvel at the weather and wish me a pleasant winter. The couple from Brooklyn pulled their rowboat up to the steps leading from the lake to the fountain area. They hailed me.
“Yo, Brooklyn,” I shouted to them.
At the end of my set, a thirty-something man got up from the bench and tossed a fiver in my case. “I gotta tell you,” he told me, “you’re the most talented man in Central Park.”
With his $5, my total came to $15, as good as any day in the summer, let alone a week before Thanksgiving.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Fit as a Fiddle, I Saw Stars, Imagine, Ukulele Lady
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Better than Average
0July 19, 2015 by admin
Thursday dawned to reveal clear blue skies, low humidity, cool breezes; it was a beautiful day for a hula. Other people thought so too. The park was mobbed. I rushed past the red and pink begonias, past the cone flowers and cosmos. Behind the mass of color were fire red fuschia, in front deep purple heliotrope. On the sides, lantana in yellow, red and orange.
A new guy sang out “Let It Be” at the Imagine Mosaic; at the end of the bench an older man sold cold water, “a dollar less than the hot dog man.” The pods on the catalpa are almost 2 feet long.
I set up on center stage, i.e. the east end of the fountain, and opened with “Making Love Ukulele Style,” followed by “Sunday,” “Fit as a Fiddle,” and “I Saw Stars,” then returning to the Hawaiian theme with “Ukulele Lady.” I noted attention, amusement, acceptance building up around me. I convinced a young man taking a picture to hula. A couple of teens talked each other into a dance. I didn’t mind the walk-aways; they gave others the idea.
My first contribution came from a man just walking by. Then a German-speaking 6-year-old stopped, transfixed. “Wollen Sie der Hula tanzen?” Tanz she did, swaying from side to side while she flapped her hands uncertainly.
Another little girl planted her feet near me and laid her dollar in my case. “Would you like to hula?” “Oh, yes.” A man in a matching tie-dyed shirt was standing by the lake. “Is that your Dad over there? Make sure its ok with him.” It was.
A blonde mom parked her stroller a few feet in front of me. A toddler stood tethered to one side while his 4-year-old sister stared at me, absorbed, on the other. I ran through a few songs, got the kids bopping a bit. Mom dug around in a bag on the stroller. It was either money for me, or a cellphone. The odds were 10-1 against me. It was sunblock. Through another few songs, mom goopped up the kids, then away went the sunblock, out came the wallet with $2 for me.
A dozen or so teenage girls from Argentina were up next, followed by another group from Spain. When both sets of dancers walked away, a 20-something man stepped up with a couple bucks. The cold water man from Strawberry Fields set up shop in the shade in front of me, calling out “agua frio, agua frio.” A single here, a single there floated into my case. It was shaping up to be a wonderful day on all counts. Now 3 women each gave me a dollar. “How much for the lei?” one asked. “Can’t sell them,” I said. “These are my means of production.”
At the end of the set, I counted $16 in my case, a better than average sum on a better than average day.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Fit as a Fiddle, I Saw Stars, Let It Be, Making Love Ukulele Style, Sunday, Ukulele Lady
