Posts Tagged ‘The Hukilau Song’
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Too Hot to Hula
0August 10, 2018 by admin
Another near 90-degree day; most everything looks parched. The wood anemones, on the other hand, are thriving everywhere I’ve spotted them. They’re full of buds and flowers, which, so far, I’ve resisted counting.
Something strange is going on at Cherry Hill: leaves are spread out on the lawn, as if overnight the season had turned. I picked some up; they were real oak leaves in orange, yellow and red. The Central Park Conservancy, it turns out, was filming a promo and had the leaves shipped in. “Where’d they come from?” I asked two black-shirted production assistants.
“No idea, ask props.”
When I left the park, one of the assistants had raked the leaves into piles and was packing them into boxes.
Colin told me he’d got a late start and needed another 30 minutes. I continued to the maple, where a caricaturist had set up, then settled opposite the boat rental kiosk, in the shadow of the bushes that lined the path. Like yesterday, after 30 minutes, the traffic of people that flowed back and forth in front of me left no tokens of appreciation, so I packed up everything and went back to the fountain.
Colin sang “Cuondo, Cuondo, Cuondo” (Italian pop song, first recorded in English by Pat Boone, 1962), then closed with “Sweet Caroline” (Neil Diamond, 1969).
A group of Spanish kids were marched into the fountain area and let loose. I put 6 of them in leis. Despite their pleas for “Despacito,” I played “The Hukilau Song.” One of them tipped me a buck, the rest walked away, but over time 3 came back with another buck each.
A young photographer from Argentina took a series of pictures of me. “Now that you’ve got your photos, how about a hula?” She looked around, then agreed. She danced freely, throwing her arms around and laughing. At the end of the dance, she gathered her equipment, shook my hand and walked away.
Two 20-somethings slowed to hear me as they walked by. They stopped about 10 yards away to confer, then one of them turned back with a dollar. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
“It’s too hot to hula.”
Too hot to hula, I repeated to myself. I’ve heard that excuse many times before; today it just might be true.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Cuondo, Despacito, Sweet Caroline, The Hukilau Song
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Lucky Eights
0August 9, 2018 by admin
On August 8, the temperature in Central Park reached 88 degrees. The triumvirate of begonias, ageratum and allium provided color. Not a rose could be found behind the benches; instead the bush was littered with brown leaves and wilting tips. In the shade of Strawberry Fields, the guitarist finished “Let It Be,” then immediately launched into a dark rendition of “Strawberry Fields.”
Colin, the cowboy, dressed in black, motioned to me as I walked past. “I’m ready to call it a day,” he said. “This is brutal.”
“Not for me today,” I said, looking toward the sun-drenched fountain. “I’ll go play in the shade.”
There weren’t many people in the park. I played to the sky and water, and to the towers of the San Remo on Central Park West. The boat rental business just across the path, on the other side of a chain-link fence, looked slow. One of the attendants, his back to me, danced a lazy hula.
I took a water break after 30 minutes, and another, 30 minutes later. So far, except for the 2 singles I use to give people the right idea, priming the pump, so to speak, my uke case was empty. While I sang out lyrics I’d sung 10,000 times before, I started to compose this blog in my head. After 11 years of busking, nothing, nil, bupkis. Then, literally at the 88th minute of my 90 minute set, a woman, who had been taking pictures of her young teen daughter, plopped a fiver in my case and said, “Picture, please.”
“I have one requirement,” I said, reaching for a lei and draping it around her daughter’s neck.
“Requirement?” she said. “Ok, we accept.”
After the picture was taken, I invited the girl, who was in New York from San Diego, to hula. “Go ahead,” said mom.
“You go ahead,” said the girl, taking the camera and putting the lei on her mother.
So mom danced to “The Hukilau Song,” while daughter took the pictures. “That’s worth some more money,” mom said.
The set over, I unfolded another 3 singles, for a total of — what else — $8.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Let It Be, Strawberry Fields, The Hukilau Song
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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
