Posts Tagged ‘I Saw Stars’
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Why Not
0August 9, 2019 by admin
I was making notes about the 2 stella d’oro lilies in full bloom behind the benches at 72nd St. Were they the harbingers of a second blooming, or 2 stragglers who had been waiting in the weeds for this opportunity? Entering the park with me were a dozen or so red T-shirted teen-aged girls. I let them pass. At the back of the line was a red T-shirted overweight man, their guide.
“Where’s your group from?” I said.
“Mostly from Germany and Japan.” The axis tour, I thought, but did not say. “I had a group that danced with you last week, from Spain.”
“Bring them by again,” I said, remembering that particular hukilau, for which I received nada.
Colin told me to set up, he was about to sing his last song, “Africa,” by Toto, 1982. The crowd around me at the fountain sang along, so did passersby, who took pictures and mouthed words.
I started my set, as usual, with “Making Love Ukulele Style.” Somewhere during my medley of “Sunday,” “Fit as a Fiddle,” and “I Saw Stars,” a little kid gave me 36 cents.
“Have you got time for a hula today?”
A willowy 20-something blonde said, “Why not?”
“My favorite answer,” I said, reaching for a lei to put around her neck. “No reason at all.”
Her name was Hannah, from Norway. She danced a beautiful hula that would warm the fjords of your heart. Then she walked away.
A young girl of 9 or 10 wandered free around the fountain. I saw her checking me out several times. Finally, she approached with a dollar in her hand, but instead of putting it in my case, she clutched it to her chest and shyly peeked at me. Without a word from me, she inched closer, threw the dollar in my case and burst into a bright grin. Her name was Alia, and it didn’t take long for her to hula. By this time her family had gathered, taking pictures. When Alia faltered, her grin turning to panic, she would focus on her grandfather, who danced a silly hula in encouragement, and all was right again.
A 30-something woman and her mother gave me a dollar. When I asked if she’d like to hula, she said, “Why not?” She was born in Arizona, but had been living in Amsterdam for 20 years, and had earned her BS, “in Dutch,” her mother bragged.
My 90 minutes was almost up, and here I was, once again, below my break-even by 34 cents. The fountain area was thinning out. Something in me said, pack it up and go home. Yet how could I ignore the evidence that showed that 99% of the time I made my nut. So I kept on singing.
A 20-something floated into my vision. She was short with a pixie cut and the ubiquitous white ear buds.
“Have you got time for a hula today?”
“Why not?” Why not indeed. She was from California, now living in Cobble Hill. With her dollar, I’d had another successful day.
My time up, I sat down, stuffed $3.36 in my pocket and was carefully folding my leis so they wouldn’t get tangled when I sensed somebody standing over me. A woman and her daughter wanted to buy a solar-powered hula girl for dad’s dashboard. They chose turquoise and handed me a fiver.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Africa, Fit as a Fiddle, I Saw Stars, Making Love Ukulele Style
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Lost and Found
0September 22, 2016 by admin
On another warm September day, occupying center stage, with only the Boyd Family Singers in the arcade to compete with, I sang to the people as they walked by. For the first 15-20 minutes, nobody noticed me, then a boy of 9 or 10 came from behind me, where he’d been listening from the rim of the fountain, and threw some coins in my case. After my first break I counted it, 4 cents.
I prefer to think that he liked my music, that, having no money, he rolled up his sleeves and fished 4 pennies from the fountain to give to me. The alternative, however, that he had made a childish gesture of disrespect, if not outright contempt, by de minimis tipping, was probably closer to the truth. Over the years, grown men have tossed pennies in my case. One even gave me a dime, then said, “You suck.”
A Spanish man held a toddler by the hand. The little girl bounced to the rhythms of “I Saw Stars.” When I waved a lei at her, she came running, like a bull to the cape. I doubled the lei to make a tiara for her, then sang a verse of “The Hukilau Song.” Her dad gave me a dollar.
Three Danes, 2 women and a man in their early 20s, stopped to dance. After 2 verses of “The Hukilau Song,” I chatted with the women while the man took up my uke and noodled around with some proficiency. All of sudden, he looked up, noticed that the larger group they were with had left without them, alerted the women and hurried off, but not before tossing $3 in my case.
A photographer shot video while I sang “Honolulu Baby.” When he was done, he gave me a quarter.
A 40-something woman with a big hat gave me a dollar; she had no time for a hula.
A small group of Italians wandered separately around the plaza, then reunited near me. One of them, a woman in her mid-30s, kept looking at me. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
Another woman in the group, perhaps 10 years younger, said, “Si.” Two more women joined us. “Do you all want to hula?”
“Si, si.”
Each one put a dollar in my case before grabbing a lei. I positioned 4 dancers, all women, while the 3 men in the group stood nearby and commented loudly as they danced. They were from different places in Southern Italy, from Rome to Calabria.
I had to leave after an hour to meet Mrs. Ukulele at the dermatologist. When I got to his office, I discovered I’d lost my indoor glasses. All I had were my shades.
After my examination, with no medical concerns except the stripes of tan on my feet from my sandals, we retraced my steps. There, on the rim of the fountain, were my glasses, safe in their hard case. Crisis averted, we exited the park, past the profusely podded catalpa, the guitarist at the Imagine Mosaic, the button sellers and cold water men.
Just before stepping out onto Central Park West, Mrs. Ukulele identified the morning glory-like vine with small yellow flowers that grew on the fence behind the benches: thunbergia alata, or Black-eyed Susan vine.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Honolulu Baby, I Saw Stars, The Hukilau Song
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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
