For the third day in a row, I went a-busking.  It was another hot one, although slightly less humid.  At the entrance to the park, a second blooming of stella d’oro has added yellow to the purple and pink palette behind the benches at 72nd St.  The guitarist at the Imagine Mosaic sang “Imagine.”

Although Colin told me he’d only be another 15 minutes, I went directly to the shade of the maple, and stayed there.  A few songs into my set, a tour guide leading about 25 people stopped near me.  “I’ve got an Elvis group here from England, can you play ‘Blue Hawaii’ for them?”

“I don’t know that one, but how about the Hawaiian Wedding Song?  That’s Elvis.”  I struggled through the first 8 bars, then found the tune and rocked through to the end:  G (I do love), A7 (you with), D7 (all my), G (heart).  The guide looked pleased; he flashed a thumbs-up and a conspiratorial grin as a few people tossed me dollars.  When he turned and started to lead the group away, a few more dollars flowed my way.

A photographer from Paris gave me a buck for picture.  Soon after another group from France came by.  We tried to get a hula going.  The leader hurried everyone along, but not before another $3 was added to the pile of singles in my case.

A 20-something couple passed by, each adding another dollar.  At the end of my set I pocketed $12.25, my best day of the week