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An Average Outing
0October 23, 2015 by admin
As I waited for the light to change so I could cross the road without getting hit by a bike, I was instead hit in the head with an acorn. I picked it up from among the pile of acorns drifting against the curb, tore off the outer shell and examined the nut inside. It was dry, with the texture of particleboard. I popped it into my mouth and spit it out; it tasted like sawdust.
Again, on my October schedule, I found center stage uncontested. I took in a couple bucks from passersby and a few folks who had sat down on the benches to soak in the sun, and who enjoyed a ukulele show as a bonus.
A family of 5 wandered by, mom, dad, 2 daughters and a son, accompanied by one of mom’s friends. Mom immediately started to hula. I waved a lei at her and invited her to join me. “I don’t have any money,” she said.
“No charge for hulas,” I told her.
A moment later, she and her 2 daughters approached with a dollar. “Look what my friend gave me,” said mom. I lined them up and off we went to the hukilau. Mom was graceful and fluid in her hand gestures; her girls awkwardly tried to copy her, then gave it up for free style head banging. The family was from Chicago, so I felt compelled to apologize for the Mets’ sweeping them 4-0 for the National League pennant.
Toward the end of my set, a woman from South Jersey, “Exit 5,” happily hula-ed, adding another $2 to my case. At $7, it was an average outing for me, on an extraordinarily beautiful October afternoon.
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The Man from the Movie
0October 22, 2015 by admin
In addition to the sights and sounds of autumn, there is the smell of the ginkgo tree. As I entered Strawberry Fields, it hit me in the face like a bag of compost.
The cowboy was packing up when I got to Bethesda Fountain; center stage was uncontested. The park was filled with people on yet another 70+ degree day. On the bench opposite, 2 elderly men were sketching. After a few songs, as they got ready to leave, one of them, shorter than me and slightly bent, with thick, curly, salt and pepper hair that may have been a toupee, came forward and handed me two $5 bills. Though I won’t say for certain, I think it was Tony Bennett. He said, “Very nice.”
A young Asian man, sitting on the rim of the fountain, gave me $1 when he left.
A young boy and older man, perhaps an old father or young grandfather, rested on the benches. When I finished the first verse and started the chorus of “Tiptoe through the Tulips,” the man perked up with recognition. At the start of the second verse, where Romeo and Juliet are used as transitive verbs, the man reached for his wallet and sent the boy over to me with a dollar.
A 2-year-old girl, dressed head to foot in orange velour, toddled over. I twisted the lei to double it, so it didn’t drag on the ground while the girl worked her chubby knees up and down in what we’ll call a hula. Another little girl wanted to go to the hukilau too, and soon the dancing babies drew a nice crowd of people, who ooh-ed and ah-ed as they took photos, a few of whom thought to tip the ukulele man.
Two young men each gave me a dollar. “Good job,” said one of them.
“Have you got time for a hula today?” The girl of 6 or 7 was just waiting to be asked.
“Yes,” she said, wide-eyed. With the lei around her neck, there was no stopping her. She ran and leaped in a wild, ecstatic burst of energy. She even did a few cartwheels. I asked her dad, when he handed over a dollar, if any of the furniture in his house was still in one piece, recalling the wreakage I created as a child jumping on beds and tumbling from sofa to floor in my own gymnastic enthusiasms.
Over the crest of the path came Marcel, with Maggie the dog. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen them. “We’ve been coming out later,” Marcel told me.
“Me too,” I said, which is why, of course, I was seeing them now.
With about 5 minutes left in my set, 2 men got off the bench and put $2 in my case. “Where are you from?”
“Slovenia.”
“I believe you are my first Slovenians,” I told them, shaking hands.
As they walked away, one of them turned to me and said, “You look like the man from the movie.”
Since I had no idea what he was talking about, I was forced to respond, “I suppose I do.”
Category Uncategorized | Tags: The Hukilau Song, Tiptoe through the Tulips, Tony Bennett
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The Gifts of October
0October 21, 2015 by admin
These 70 degree October afternoons are a gift. Autumn is evident everywhere. Dead leaves blow over the lawns, acorns are ankle deep along the sides of the path, dog roses send their last, desperate vermilion buds into the air, in defiance of frost. Once again, adapting to the cowboy’s schedule, I arrived at the fountain near his quitting time.
Andrew, a 20-something I’ve seen around from time to time, got there with his guitar before me. He and I came to an agreement. When the cowboy left, Andrew would move to the west side of the fountain and I would take center stage. So it was I spent the next 15-20 minutes under the maple, warming up my voice on “My Baby Just Cares for Me” and “Down Among the Sheltering Palms.” When I returned to the fountain, the cowboy was just packing up. Andrew looked at him over his shoulder. “Right on time,” he said.
A photographer set up his tripod to take pictures of the Angel of the Waters, with pigeons perched on her head and wings. Two young men were hanging around, eyeing my uke. When I stopped to talk, one asked if it was a tenor, and could he try it. The conversation was about ukes; his buddy, bored, wandered over to the photographer, asking about lens. When I finally got my uke back, the young men wandered off together. Moments later, the photographer folded up his tripod, slipped his camera into its bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder. As he walked past, he put $2 into my case.
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
“You deserve it.”
A tall, skinny Asian boy had been sitting with his friend across from me on the bench. I watched him walk toward me, drop 4 quarters into my case, and walk back. He and his friend continued to listen for another few minutes, before, waving “Aloha,” they disappeared into the crowd.
A 30-something woman gave me a dollar, but would not hula.
A small boy, with a dollar in his hand, started toward me, but when our eyes met he ran away, back to his mom. I took a few steps to the side and, without making eye contact, observed him, with mom’s encouragement, as he inched toward me again. When he was close, I turned to give him a smile. He dropped the money and ran back to his laughing mom again.
A gay couple walked past me to the lake. Moments later, they walked back, each pulling a dollar from his pocket to give me. “You’re the best,” one said to me. “The best ever,” said the other.
My set over, I counted out $7 and packed up my gear. As I got to my feet, I turned my face to the sun, soaking in its warmth, and hoping these gifts would never end.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Down among the Sheltering Palms, My Baby Just Cares for Me
