Posts Tagged ‘Hotel California’
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A Fast Day on Center Stage
0July 22, 2018 by admin
The weatherman promised a fantastic Friday, so I went to the park and was glad I did. The platoon guitarist played “Imagine” at the Imagine Mosaic. Colin, the cowboy, quickly wrapped up “Hotel California” (Eagles, 1976), and yielded center stage to me. My first dollar came from one of the begging Buddhists who presses prayer flags in the hands of people and asks for money. My second dollar came from Colin.
A Chinese teenage girl couldn’t wait to dance. Her friends roared with laughter as her hula burst forth to the strains of “The Hukilau Song.” At the end of the song she collected coins from the friends to give to me. A 20-something hipster handed me a dollar, and a couple of kids threw in some change. The teen-aged son of a family walking by pulled a dollar out of his pocket and threw me the shaka sign, the Hawaiian equivalent to thumbs-up.
A group of bicyclists rested on the bench. After listening for a while, one of the men, tall and broad, came forward with $3. He was from Germany, near Lake Constance. “Ah, der Bodensee,” I said, channeling Herr Hannes, my German teacher in junior high.
Next came a girl from Virginia, who danced a charming hula, acting out the net-throwing and eye-rolling I sang about in “The Hukilau Song.”
A 20-something girl in black watched from the shaded path; I spotted her again, standing around the fountain to my left, and a third time on the bench to my right. While I serenaded a couple of little kids, she snuck in behind me and tossed a dollar in my case. “Thanks,” I said, catching her in the act. She smiled and was gone.
Carole, the photographer, stopped to say hello. She hadn’t seen me in a while and thought I might be playing somewhere else. As we chatted under the blue sky and billowy clouds, with people milling all around us, and the sound of the fountain splashing, the children laughing – even the Russian accordionist somewhere out there – I felt I was home, among friends.
A 40-something woman put a handful of change in my case. A different begging Buddhist gave me a dollar. He faced me, clapped, put his hands together and bowed.
Two pre-teens from Chicago gave me a dollar. They didn’t want to hula, they wanted to talk about ukes. “That’s a tenor ukulele, isn’t it?” said one. She was teaching herself to play. I handed her the uke; “Let’s see what you can do?”
The other girl was taking lessons too. When it was her turn, she picked out a little tune and was quite pleased with herself. An adult standing by insisted on pictures. Afterward, she tucked a ten-spot under the capo in my case.
At the end of my set I folded $24 in bills into my pocket, and pushed $1.70 in too-hot-to-handle change into the shade of my ukulele case to cool. A man in a business suit, complete with tie and suspenders, walked up, took out his wallet and extracted a single for me. “I used to dress like that,” I said.
“I wish I could dress like you.”
“Some day you will.”
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Hotel California, Imagine, The Hukilau Song
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Aloha and Shana Tova to All
0September 22, 2017 by admin
I was counting wood anemone flowers (15-13) when an Israeli woman stopped to admire the blossoms. She looked into my face, then recounted this anecdote. “When my children were young I took them to many free orchestral concerts. One day, while walking home from one of these events, my son said, ‘Mommy, I know why Jewish people like the violin so much.’ ‘Why is that?’ I asked him. ‘Because the violin is the only instrument that cries.’”
“Is that a violin?” she asked.
“It’s a ukulele. The only instrument that laughs.”
As we parted she added, “Shana Tova,” today being the first day of Rosh Hashana.
It was another hot day, with a gray cloud cover. Schools were closed; the park was again teeming with people.
At Bethesda Fountain, Colin the cowboy was ending his set with “Hotel California” (Eagles, 1976). His recorded accompaniment included a string section and choir.
Far up the path, a man and woman listened to me play “Fit as a Fiddle.” Afterward, the man walked down to me and gave me a dollar. “I loved your rendition of that song from ‘Singin’ in the Rain.’”
A mixed-gender group of kids from Long Island hesitated, then, one by one, 4 of them donned leis and hulaed. With their backs to me, they organized $3 among them.
A man and his toddler son sat by the fountain to my left. I offered the child my kid-lei, but he ran back to his dad and hid behind him. I continued my set, pretending not to notice when the boy snuck up behind me and swiped a lei. “That’s not yours,” said dad, who returned the lei, along with 29 cents.
A well-dressed group of moms and kids lingered at the fountain to my right. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
“I know how to hula,” said a dark-haired mom.
“Where’d you learn to hula?” her friend wanted to know. Taking a lei, the woman described her childhood in Seattle and the many Hawaiians she knew there.
To the strains of “The Hukilau Song,” the woman danced using all the proper hand movements I’ve seen native Hawaiian use. Her friend and all the kids were awestruck. “You were terrific,” I told her.
“So were you,” she said, fishing a fiver from her wallet.
“Have you got time for a hula today?” I asked a young woman.
“Why not?”
So we went to the hukilau, after which I asked if I detected an Irish accent. “Scotland,” she said. I was abashed. “No worry, it happens all the time.”
A contingent of 20-something Brazilians danced next. They danced energetically through 2 verses, only to find that the girl with the smartphone hadn’t figured out how to record the dance. After some brief instruction, we reprised the second verse, for which I received cheek kisses and a 10-spot.
A man with dreadlocks came by and gave me a fiver, asking for $3 change. “That ever happen before?”
“All the time,” I said.
“Money will be no good soon. Listen to me, I’m from the future.”
“Maybe you should give me the $3 back.”
“For the present, I still need it, but soon,” he intoned.
Two women, one 70-something, the other perhaps her daughter, would not hula, but asked if they could take a picture with me, for which they gave me $2. I asked the older woman, who spoke with an accent, where she was from.
“Brooklyn.”
By the end of my set my case had filled up nicely, totaling $30.67. Aloha and Shana Tova to all.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Fit as a Fiddle, Hotel California, Singin' in the Rain, The Hukilau Song
