Posts Tagged ‘Little Grass Shack’
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In the Shade of the Maple
0August 16, 2018 by admin
With the temperature north of ninety degrees, I headed straight for the shade of the maple. A cooling breeze blew off the water. Not long after starting my set, a half dozen 4-5 year-olds, in bright orange tee shirts, walked by with two women who appeared to be more east side socialites than day camp counsellors.
“Have you got time for a hula today?”
“How about it, kids, have we got time?” All but one kid was up for it. I handed out leis, and draped a lei on the fence in case the one dissenter changed her mind. For first time hula dancers the kids did great, although halfway through the second verse of “The Hukilau Song” their arms drooped and 2 of them barely moved at all. Afterward, I collected the leis from the kids, and a fiver from one of the women.
Two 20-somethings walked by, stopped, and returned to toss 2 singles in my case.
Coming down the path from Bethesda Fountain was a crew of cameramen, sound technicians, 2 directors and a well-dressed woman with a clipboard. In the center of this gaggle was a tall, bearded man in a sleeveless vest, carrying a guitar. His name was Elias, I was told, a wrestler with the WWE. Could I play a scene with him? All I had to do was tell him that his music sucked, after which he would trash-talk me and tell the cameras where he was performing next.
Elias and I ad libbed through 3 takes, after which the woman with the clipboard donned a lei and danced the hula. A large crowd gathered to watch, and between takes the directors studied the contents of my case, without adding anything to it.
After filming me, Elias and his entourage moved on to the rowboats and filmed on the lake.
Toward the end of my set, one of 2 girls walking by put a buck in my case, and during my final number, “Little Grass Shack,” an elderly woman holding a preteen boy by the hand, stopped to ask me where was the pond where they sailed boats. “I used to live in Maui,” she offered, after I gave her directions. “You?”
“No, although I’ve been there.”
“I really like your music,” she said, and she pulled out $2 dollars and handed it to the boy to give to me.
“Mahalo.”
I counted out $10. The shade under the maple notwithstanding, it was hot, and the forecast for tomorrow was hotter still. I hoisted my uke onto my back and turned for home just as a man in a red MAGA hat walked by. I wondered if he felt the heat yet.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Elias, Little Grass Shack, The Hukilau Song
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A Slow Day under the Maple
0July 20, 2018 by admin
The park foliage drooped in the heat. Nothing new seems to have been planted this week. The big surprise was a dusty pink wood anemone in bloom under the pin oak by the road. In the shade by the lake, the jazz combo was reduced to a bass, drums and keyboard.
It looked as if center stage was mine. Past the big bubble man and snakes on segways, a woman had set up a table with manual typewriter, ready to write poems to order. I let her know I would set up near her before I saw the erhu player, scratching out “Besame Mucho.”
“Never mind.”
Under the shade of the maple, I began my set with “Making Love Ukulele Style.”
“Hey,” a man shouted as he walked by, “Can you spell ukulele backward?” I did and he kept walking.
A young family with 2 daughters walked by. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
“Absolutely,” said mom. The elder girl, about 7, was shy, but the younger was full of energy; she romped through 2 verses of “The Hukilau Song.” Dad coughed up a buck.
A 50-ish woman stopped to give me a dollar, followed by a woman whose kids were being drawn by a nearby caricaturist. Another caricaturist set up on the other side of me. He watched my act for a while, then packed up his stuff and moved on.
A young woman gave me a smile and a dollar. She had no time to hula.
As I wrapped up, 2 families with 4 kids under 5 agreed to hula. Draping leis around their necks, I gave them a quick lesson and sent them off to the hukilau. They started with enthusiasm, but before I got halfway through the first verse, their arms fell to their sides, smiles faded, boredom set in. Across the path, the moms started dancing, encouraging the kids to follow their lead, but it was no use. I brought the song to a merciful end. One of the dads made a dollar donation.
I played “Little Grass Shack,” stuffed 5 singles into my shirt pocket, packed up and went home.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Besame Mucho, Little Grass Shack, Making Love Ukulele Style, The Hukilau Song
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Mr. Ukulele Goes Ukrainian
0July 12, 2018 by admin
It’s been a month since I last went a-busking. The heat, a long vacation, then a terrible cold kept me away. The park was verdant when I returned. Red begonias had been planted out for half a block along Central Park West. The swollen ovaries of the spent Stellas were as big as my thumb. Behind the benches, ageratum and allium made a purple apron in front of the dog roses, and, next to the pergola, hydrangea bore flowers just starting to turn blue.
Randy played his dobro at the Imagine Mosaic. I stopped to chat with him; as I left I shook his hand, each finger of which was armed with metal picks.
White morning glories had infiltrated the undergrowth. The jazz combo had crossed the road for the cool breezes off the lake, and the acrobats were making their noise on the promenade, where they belonged. It appeared center stage was mine, until I saw the accordion player sitting on a bench, talking to the Ukrainian artist.
“Are you still playing,” I asked him, “because I’d like to set up here.” He answered in a language I couldn’t understand; the Ukrainian was no help. “Do you speak English?” In response another torrent of noise. “I’m going to play here,” I told him.
Having laid out my leis and hula girls, I started with “Making Love Ukulele Style,” whereupon the accordionist squeezed out a doleful melody.
“No, no, no,” I told him. “I asked you, now I’m playing here.”
“OK, play,” he said, finding some English after all.
But as soon as I started, he did too. I felt the aloha spirit draining from me and approached him again. “What is your problem? You’ve got to stop.”
“Ten minutes,” he said.
“I know what 10 minutes is, do you?” No affect. “Ten minutes,” I said, pointing to my watch. I walked back to the fountain and sat down. After about 2 minutes, he packed up his instrument and left.
I stood up and started again. A man asked for a picture and gave me 2 bucks. A few minutes later, a couple danced to “Honolulu Eyes” and gave me another dollar. Another dollar came from a woman who wanted a picture, and 2 more from a woman who wanted to hula. Next came a family of 4 from Georgia who were driving up to the Adirondacks to spend a few days with a friend at his cabin. Somewhere in North Carolina they’d bought a ukulele for the kids in the car. They wouldn’t dance, but dad was interested in a 5-minute lesson. I taught him the D-G-A7 pattern, to which you can sing practically any song. That earned me $1.
The Ukrainian artist came by. “What’s with that friend of yours?” I asked him.
“No friend,” he said with a frown. “Russian. Ukraine and Russia no friends,” and he bumped his fists together to illustrate his meaning.
I continued to play in the heat. My voice was gone, my throat hurt. I stopped frequently to drink from my water bottle. Then I heard the accordion again; the Russian had set up by the stairs. In a flash, I became Ukrainian.
A man and his daughter walked by with $2 for me. “Thanks for the music,” he said.
The Russian had stopped playing and was filling a water bottle from the fountain’s pool. I had pleasant thoughts of amoebic dysentery, cholera and other water-borne diseases. As I sipped the last of my cool, clean water, I realized I was still sick with my cold. With 30 minutes left in my set, I sang “Little Grass Shack” and went home.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Honolulu Eyes, Little Grass Shack, Making Love Ukulele Style
