Posts Tagged ‘Ukulele Lady’
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Back to Center Stage
0October 9, 2014 by admin
I took up my uke at center stage, under a wind-swept October sky. Clouds, some dark with rain, passed in front of the sun, then moved off to the southeast. The crowds were sparse today, only a few people on the stone benches, reading, eating, enjoying an illegal smoke. An elderly woman started me off with a buck and a smile.
A family of four stopped nearby. Dad gave his young son some money. As he approached to give it to me, I watched the kid unfold two singles and put one in his pocket. I got the other.
A quartet of young Brazilians danced by. “How about a hula today?”
One woman looked interested, but she needed encouragement. “Don’t let it rain. A hula will chase away the clouds and bring out the sun. Do it for your friends, do it for yourself.” She danced, and damn if the sun didn’t emerge .
A 50-something couple strolled down the path toward me. When they got to the benches they sat down and listened to my rendition of “Honolulu Baby.” They were Brits. “Do you know that song?” I asked the man when he made his $2 donation.
“No,” he said, “but you sure sold it. You’ve got charm.”
One of the reasons I prefer center stage to my spot on the path under the maple is that people get a chance to hear more than a snippet as they walk by. Another couple of a certain age had been listening for a while before thanking me with a dollar. Two young women took a seat and, between bites of their sandwiches, struck silly poses for each other. It was inevitable that one of them would answer the call of the uke.
“I don’t know how to hula,” the mocha-skinned California girl told me.
“Just do what’s comfortable for you,” I said. “No rules.”
She must have seen people hula, however, because she had all the moves, including the double-time hip action of the natives. Her friend filmed most of “The Hukilau Song,” promising to put it up on Facebook.
While singing “Ukulele Lady” for the second time, a man in flip-flops and long white hair sat down by the fountain to listen. He introduced himself as Mr. Melody TM, told me he was an international music distributor and asked me if I had any of my own material. When I told him I only played the old songs, he asked me to listen to his latest release; maybe I would cover it. It was called “Riding in the Park,” about horse-drawn carriages. The chorus begins: “Don’t take away our horses, please.”
My time was up. With $10.12 in my pocket, I considered it a fine day.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Honolulu Baby, The Hukilau Song, Ukulele Lady
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September
0September 4, 2014 by admin
After 2 weeks away, I quicken my pace as I enter the park, eager to get back on center stage. Garish cleome have shot up like fireworks behind the roses and played-out cosmos. The homeless guitar men still occupy the Imagine mosaic. The chestnut tree, I’m sad to report, looks terminal. There are more brown withered leaves on the ground than on the branches. Only a few black and blackening clusters of fruit depend from the upper limbs. I stomped on one that had hit the ground; the nut inside was bright and shiny.
I started out slowly, trying to get my fingers to move through the chord patterns without fumbling, or forgetting altogether. By the time I got to “Ukulele Lady,” digits limber, voice tuned, I was rocking. A nicely dressed woman, who had been sitting in the shade for a few songs, walked up with a dollar and thanked me for the entertainment. She would not hula, nor would a preteen boy who also gave me a dollar. Three mid-teen girls had been watching all this from their bench; with a little coaxing, first one, then all of them had picked out their leis, waved their arms and went to the hukilau.
A kid on a bike lost control and wiped out right in front of me. The front wheel smashed into my case. The kid ran crying to his mom, while I straightened out the seat and handlebars, engaged the kickstand and rolled the bike to the side. A moment later, a mom (or au pair) retrieved the bike, returned it to the crying child, then collected her 3 charges and treated them to a hula. She gave me a dollar, and when the dance was done and the kids wanted to dance again, she gave me another.
At minute 85 of my set, I was out of water, it was hot, everyone seemed to have found shade on the other side of the fountain, and I was ready to go home. A young man approached. “I really like your music,” he said, “but do you think you could move somewhere else? We’re taping an interview. It’s for ‘America’s Got Talent’ on NBC.”
“I’ve got talent. I’m American.”
“This is the last episode for this season,” he said. “But you can fill out an application to be a contestant next season.”
“All right,” I said. “Give me $5 and I’m outta here. Can you do that?”
He thought for a moment, realized, I think, that he was getting off easy, and pulled an envelope from his pants pocket. “I can do that.”
Category Uncategorized | Tags: America's Got Talent, Ukulele Lady
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You Never Know
0August 10, 2014 by admin
It was another hot one; I set up in the cool breeze on the path. After a while, a young Indian couple stopped near me. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
“I danced yesterday,” the woman said. “Don’t you remember me?”
“Mumbai,” I greeted her. “That was yesterday. What about today? Did you already hula in your hotel room this morning? Besides,” I went on, “he didn’t see you.”
They turned their backs and conducted a private discussion; I turned my attention to the people walking by. I started singing “Ukulele Lady” for my next number. Somewhere about the time the wiki-wakis wooed, Mumbai girl walked forward and grabbed a lei. I transitioned into “The Hukilau Song.” As she danced, she sang the words, “huki, huki, huki, huki, hukilau.” Her hula was much improved; maybe she had practiced in her hotel room.
A photographer spent some time setting up his shot. Unlike most folks who find me photogenic, he gave me a dollar. There was an egregious hula walkaway, and almost immediately afterward a videographer walkaway. Fact was, no one was paying any attention to me. Then Maggie the dog came by with her owner. Humans exchanged pleasantries. He told me how much he liked the accordionist, whom I could just hear over the hill near the fountain. Maggie took a seat.
“Sorry, Maggie,” I said, starting to pack up. I wasn’t going to spend my last 10 minutes in the park serenading a dog. I had better things to do.
Having done them, I boarded an M104 bus. I had to take my uke case off my back to sit down. “What is that, a violin?” the woman next to me asked. She was older than me, with a European accent.
I told her it was a ukulele. She asked me what kind of music I played, classical? In fact, what I play is classical uke music, but I didn’t want to get into those kind of distinctions, so I described my act with a few titles.
“I have a television show on cable,” she said. “And I’d love to have a guest who was over 20. My name is Martine.”
I gave her my card. You never know.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: The Hukilau Song, Ukulele Lady
