Posts Tagged ‘Tiptoe through the Tulips’
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Adding to the Chaos
0May 13, 2016 by admin
The guys who play the box and guitar have added another guitar to their ensemble. They occupy the space on the steps, facing the fountain. The big bubble man is between them and the arcade. Although I can’t see her, the lady with the accordion is in the arcade and is taking full advantage of the Guastavino tiling to amplify “Lady of Spain.”
I sat down at my usual spot, opposite the path leading to the Boat House. As I set up I assessed the noise level. I’ve played through worse. On the bench in front of me were two women, their palettes, paints and paper spread around them. No way would I obstruct their view. Tuned, hydrated, I checked the time, got to my feet, and added my voice to the chaos of the place.
There were the usual dog walkers, moms’ pushing strollers, selfie stickers, guided tourists, brides and birdwatchers. When a school group passes by, I spot the leader and ask, “Has this group got time for a hula today?” This particular leader was a stylish, Ukrainian 60-something lady, who, erect and commanding, addressed her charges. “We have been requested to hula dance. I believe we shall do so.”
The kids were high school age, a little reserved; only one rushed forward to take a lei. But as I dangled the leis in front of them, and the leader quietly called out names, more and more stepped forward. “Lots of leis left,” I said.
A kid came forward. “One for our teacher,” she said. I gave her the lei from my neck. I quickly lined everyone up, teacher in the middle, explained what was about to happen and started in on “The Hukilau Song.” The students without leis also danced; we created a sensation and everyone had a good time. The teacher gave me $10, and various kids chipped in.
Walking down the path toward me, I watched a man reach into his back pocket and pull out his wallet. I’m singing “Tiptoe through the Tulips.” He’s heading straight for me, drops a buck, throws his arm around me and joins in on “knee deep in flowers we’ll stray,” in a Tiny Tim falsetto. As camp as Tiny Tim was in the 60’s, no one under 40 ever heard of him.
A grizzled old man dressed all in black walked by and eyed me, eyed my case. A while later he came by again in the other direction. The third time he came up behind me, threw a tightly folded bill into my case, and walked off.
With about 15 minutes left in my set, the ladies on the bench started packing up their painting. One of them walked up to me and put $2 down. “Thank you,” she said, “you provided a lovely accompaniment to our work.”
On my way out of the park I heard a carriage driver point out the statue of Daniel Webster, senator and orator. It was pleasing to hear the driver get it right; so often they say Daniel Webster wrote the dictionary. Too bad he added, “not to be confused with the man who wrote the dictionary, Nathaniel Webster.”
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Lady of Spain, The Hukilau Song, Tiny Tim, Tiptoe through the Tulips
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Good to be Back
0April 20, 2016 by admin
The air was warm, the breezes cool. “What a beautiful day for fishing,” as the Hukilau song says. Spring sprang apace. On my way to Bethesda Fountain, I picked a violet hiding among the myrtle.
When I got to center stage, I saw Rakeem seated on a bench, saxophone in his lap, talking to a guy with a guitar case.
“You done here?”
“I’ve been done for half an hour.”
I started to set up. “Where’s the cowboy?”
Rakeem pointed with his chin. Over my left shoulder, by the water, the cowboy crooned quietly. “I can live with that,” I said.
I organized my paraphernalia, the solar-powered hula girls, the CDs, the big kahuna dashboard doll, a sticker reading “Got Aloha?” that came with my aloha shirt, and leis, lots of leis. All tuned up, I opened with “Making Love Ukulele Style,” then worked through my routine for 30 minutes, before a child ran up to me and put $3 in my case. I never saw her coming. I turned and watched her running back to her father by the water.
“Have you got time for a hula today?” A boy of 18-24 months agreed to dance. I folded the lei in half and with his mom’s help got it past his sunglasses. He didn’t have a clue. I pointed to the solar-powered hula girls. Staring at them, he started to move his arms and hips. His mother tried to turn him around, so she could get a picture, but he kept turning back to the dolls. By this time a crowd had gathered, always a good sign for a busker. Not only did I get $2 from mom, but a man, who’d gotten up off the bench to take a picture, handed me a buck before going back to the bench to sit down. “You’ve got a good voice,” he told me.
A little while later a woman took my picture and gave me a buck. Between songs I spotted my West Indies friend, an elderly woman with a proud posture and a bright smile, whom for years I’ve seen walking, east to west, almost every day. “Good afternoon,” I said, touching the brim of my panama hat.
A 40-something, in business casual, seemed glad to give me a dollar. “Thank you.” “No, thank you.”
I checked my watch, which I keep propped up in my case so I can see it. Five minutes left. I started in on “Tiptoe through the Tulips,” but didn’t get past the intro. Maggie the dog, and her owner, Marcel, were making their way down the path toward me. Marcel and I chatted; Maggie sniffed at the 8 singles in my case. It felt good to be back.As I walked up the stairs at the end of my set, a man seated at the top said, “Princess Poo-Poo-ly has Plenty Pa-Pa-Ya.”
To which I responded, “and she loves to give them away.”
High-five. When you play the ukulele in the park, you have to expect this kind of thing.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Making Love Ukulele Style, Princess Poo-Poo-Ly Has Plenty Pa-Pa-Ya, The Hukilau Song, Tiptoe through the Tulips
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A Good Friday
0March 27, 2016 by admin
The sky looked like a concrete sidewalk, including the variations of gray and the swirling irregularities, as if smoothed by a distracted workman. Rain was predicted for the morning, but by noon it still hadn’t come.
There seemed to be no life on the wisteria covering the north pergola. Upon closer investigation, however, I could just make out some growing tips emerging from the vine’s creases. It was the change of shift at the Imagine Mosaic, one guitarist carrying away his case to count his money, the next sitting down on the back of a bench, his feet on the seat, his case on the ground, tuning up. The magnificent magnolia was drawing a crowd; I edged my way past to avoid spoiling anyone’s photos.
Was that a raindrop? No. Is that a dandelion? Yes.
The cowboy had arrived before me, so I set up under the leafless maple. A man smiled as he tossed me 50 cents, then looked to the sky. “It’s not gonna rain,” I said, just as the leading edge of the front moved overhead, and annoying drops turned into real rain, rain I could no longer ignore. I folded everything into my case and headed for the tunnel under the road leading to the Conservatory Pond. Although I was no longer walking with an air boot and cane, I could still only make my way slowly, so I got pretty wet.
The space under the tunnel was packed with tourists waiting it out. Despite the darkness, I found a cloth in my case and wiped down my uke. After 10-15 minutes, the rain stopped, the sun peaked through, the people scattered, and I headed back to the maple. On a hunch, however, I kept walking to the fountain to find the cowboy hadn’t come back, so for the next hour, center stage was mine.
A school group from San Diego had time to hula. Eight or nine teenagers donned leis and pranced around. Once again, my case filled with bills. After the dance, the kids hung around, during which time I learned that they’d never heard of Laurel and Hardy (“Honolulu Baby”) or Dean Martin (“Making Love Ukulele Style”). One girl asked what decade my songs were from. “Mostly the 20’s and 30’s.” The look on her face made me realize just how long ago that must seem. Comparatively speaking, how many songs from the Civil War did I know at her age?
“Have you got time for a hula today?”
A shy teenage girl from Virginia was talked into dancing by one of her friends. After a few bars of “The Hukilau Song,” a pair of younger girls from somewhere else wanted to join in. “Put on a lei.” I motioned to the colorful array of leis draped over the back of my case. The three danced a verse, the Virginian bowed out, and the kids kept waving their arms until the final Huki-huki-huki-hukilau. What had started as a dreary day was now bright and warm. When I played “Tiptoe through the Tulips,” I felt that by singing, as the song says, “we’ll keep the showers away.” The front moved through;people were happy to add to my growing pile.
Over my shoulder I could hear amplified music. It was the Chinese accordion player, sitting on her stool in her cap and sweater, midway between me and the Boyd singers in the arcade. She was really too close – I could have called her out on her breach of busker etiquette — but I didn’t. It had been a fine day. I made $22.42.
As I walked past the accordion player, she played the theme from “The Godfather.” In a box at her feet were a few dollars and her CDs. My CD, “Aloha, New York,” is currently out of print. I must attend to that.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Dean Martin, Honolulu Baby, Laurel and Hardy, Making Love Ukulele Style, The Hukilau Song, Theme from the Godfather, Tiptoe through the Tulips
