Posts Tagged ‘The Hukilau Song’
-
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
-
Fourth of July in September
0September 21, 2017 by admin
The wood anemone bent out over the path sporting 15 open flowers; the smaller plant, 9. The park seemed more populous than recently. The cowboy, Colin, had already packed his gear when I arrived at center stage.
A man asked if a dollar would buy a picture, as indeed it would.
A trio of girls from Maryland wandered by, looking for a good place to sit and eat lunch. “Have you got time for a hula today?” One of the girls, Emily, wanted to dance, so I fixed her up with a lei and told her about the hukilau. After the first verse, she signaled her friend to come over and take a picture. In the distance, I noticed Carole, her camera nearly obscuring her face.
At the end of the second verse of “The Hukilau Song,” Emily ran back to her friends; Carole came forward and gave me a dollar. “You don’t have to give me money every time,” I told her.
“Not every time,” she said.
Emily returned with a dollar and my lei.
A man approached from the benches and gave me $2.
Three willowy blondes strolled by. I tried to convince them to hula, but they smiled and kept walking. Just before exiting the plaza, however, one turned back. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No, no,” said the woman, stooping to drop a dollar and change in my case.
A pack of Italians rode in on their bikes. They enthusiastically accepted my offer to hula, each kicking in a buck afterward.
A woman of a certain age, having finished her lunch, handed me 2 singles. “Very entertaining,” she said.
A couple had been lingering on the bench in front of me. The man stretched out, with his head in the woman’s lap, while she scrolled through her phone. From time to time, the man looked up at me, then, after a few songs, he appeared to be napping. At last they got up to go, and the man veered off in order to make a donation.
“Thanks,” I said, “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Love your music,” he said.
“Thanks for the show,” said another man, shortly before I ended my set.
I was surprised to count out $17.76, a number more suited to the busy summer season, July, say, than these slow days of September.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: The Hukilau Song
-
Viva Mexico
0September 15, 2017 by admin
The dogwood berries have started to turn red. They usually dangle over the button seller’s head, but today he’s not here. The hot dog cart on the north corner is gone. There are fewer pedicabs lined up in the shade, the drivers bent over their cell phones. The park seems to have emptied out for the season.
Today’s wood anemone score: 6-5.
(I noticed a rival league of pink wood anemones farther down the path, under a tree near the road, but decided that entry to the competition was closed for the season, and moved on without counting flowers.)
In the waters of the fountain, lotus flowers have ripened into brown-faced pods, large red and white flowers bloom singly or in pairs on their lily pads, and a tall grass that looks like bamboo rustles softly in the wind.
Nearly a half hour passes before a couple appeared from around the fountain to give me $2.
A tall young man recorded “All I Do Is Dream of You.” He gave me a dollar, and said he was from Uruguay. I was delighted; it had taken an hour, but I’d earned 30 cents more than a senior round trip on the subway, my definition of break-even. That was to be all for another 30 minutes.
As I came to the end of my set, four girls from Mexico showed up. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
They were shy, they demurred, they stared at their feet, but they did not walk away, and soon succumbed to kibitzing, Mr. Ukulele-style. They danced to both verses of “The Hukilau Song,” and together assembled 3 singles, doubling the day’s take.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: All I Do Is Dream of You, The Hukilau Song
