Posts Tagged ‘Making Love Ukulele Style’
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A Hot, Humid Thursday
0August 20, 2017 by admin
It sat down at the fountain, under a blazing summer sun. While I set up, a young man asked me if I’d seen the other guy who plays at Bethesda Fountain. I described the cowboy, without calling him that; the young man said that was him. “He’s usually done by 12:30, then I take over.”
The young man sat down next to me. I tuned up while we chatted. He was a singer and was thinking of busking. “Do you use an amp and recorded accompaniment?” He said no. I suggested he check out the underpass between the boathouse and the conservatory pond, where people sailed model boats. “The acoustics are really good.” That seemed to have sold him. He ambled eastward; I stood and played “Making Love Ukulele Style.”
And I played for 30 minutes before a family of 6 walked by. A pudgy little boy of 8 or 9 slowed, stopped, dug a quarter out of his pocket and gave it to me.
A bride and groom came by. I immediately stopped playing “Did You Ever See a Dream Walking,” and started “The Hawaiian Wedding Song.” This is my practice for every wedding party. They took pictures at the fountain near me, after which I asked if they had time for a hula. Unlike all brides and grooms before them, they said yes.
A crowd gathered to watch the happy couple dance to “The Hukilau Song.” Some of them put money in my case, as I later saw; my attention was on the dance, which evolved from a stiff, unconvincing hula to an unrestrained series of spins and dips, ending with a long smooch on the lips. The bride, who carried no money, asked if I’d be there for a while. I told her another 30-40 minutes. They returned the leis and headed toward the boathouse. They didn’t come back.
A man, passing by, dropped a buck.
On the lawn that rises to the east, a large group of kids in white tees had been picnicking. Lunch over, they walked down to the fountain 4 or 5 at a time. A kid came forward and threw a coin into my case, then ran back to where his travel mates were assembling. I expected to find another quarter, but it was a 2 Euro piece, which I replace with 2 singles from my wallet.
A photographer captured the second verse of “Honolulu Baby,” lyrics by Mr. Ukulele:
While down at Bethesda Fountain, underneath a hot summer sky,
I play my ukulele for all the people walking by.
The lovers feel the rhythm, the little babies clap their hands.
The vendors do the hula beside their hot dog stands.
For which I got a thumbs-up and a dollar.
I’d played for 90 minutes. With 7 singles and a quarter in my pocket, I quickly got out of the sun.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Did You Ever See a Dream Walking, Making Love Ukulele Style, The Hawaiian Wedding Song, The Hukilau Song
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A Fine Day for a Hula
0August 9, 2017 by admin
After another long vacation, I returned to the park on a cool, wet day, that evolved into a beautiful sunlit outing at Bethesda Fountain. The vibes were strange today. No guitarist picked through the Beatles’ repertoire at the Imagine Mosaic. No combo set up across the road from Daniel Webster. There seemed to be no music in the park at all. The road to Cherry Hill was clogged with police cars, with more police cars parked on the grass and across the road, where clusters of color-coded kids gathered around snack tents, or sat in tight circles on the lawn. It was Police Appreciation Day, or some such event I was told. Five hundred kids were gathered, each of whom appeared to have arrived in his own police car.
Walking down the western stairs, I was relieved to see that Bethesda Fountain was free of the no music/heavy police presence vibe. I opened with “Making Love Ukulele Style.”
I spotted a willowy short-haired woman weaving to the music. She was 30 yards or more away, but with each song she got closer. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
She was thrilled to be invited and danced a vigorous, interpretive hula that attracted a crowd. When a mom and daughters from Ohio stopped to watch, my hula dancer threw leis over their heads and egged them on, through yet another iteration of “The Hukilau Song.” There was raucous laughter at the end of the dance. Dad from Ohio counted out some singles and put them in my case. My dancer ran off to meet the photographer she’d been waiting for. I called her back to learn she was a model from Turkmenistan. “I love New York,” she said.
A girl came by with 50 cents, but would not hula. A gray-haired man pushing a stroller with his toddler stopped to listen. Out of the stroller, the boy bobbed his head and bent his knees to the music. Dad gave me a fiver.
It was a good day for teen-aged girls. A dollar here, a quarter there, hula dancers everywhere. A tour group came by and the leader gave me a dollar. Her name was Dina. She said she’d heard me play many times and wanted me to know how much she enjoyed it.
A group of Israeli teens sat around the fountain for a photo. It was their last day in New York. The boys would not hula, but the girls, pushing first one girl forward, then another, finally decided they would all hula together. One of the boys joined them. As graceful as the girls were, the boy was stiff and awkward, like Frankenstein’s monster on Waikiki. I got a couple of dollars in donations, plus a coin worth 1/10 of a new shekel, a little less than 3 cents.
A Pakistani contingent came next. Like the Israelis they sat for photos and giggled among themselves about dancing, but they did not dance. When they gathered to leave, they too threw some bills my way.
At the end of my set, with over $25 in my case, I played my closing number, “Little Grass Shack,” for Isabella, from Virginia. She danced a joyful hula, handed back the lei and ran to her parents, who turned and walked away.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Making Love Ukulele Style, My Little Grass Shack, The Hukilau Song
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May Day
1May 2, 2017 by admin
After a 3 week hiatus, I returned to the park. Most of the daffs were shot. Silvery rose-colored tulips dominated the hillside by the hundreds, giving way to purple pansies and multi-colored South African daisies at the entry to the park at 72nd Street. Above the corpses of white tulips now rose pale yellow fritillaria imperialis, their shy flowers peeking up from a cover of spiky green leaves. Next to the still bud-less rose bushes was a single bleeding heart.
The area around the Mosaic Fountain was in deep shade. There, Solomon’s seal and buckeye bottlebrush dominated. One pink wild geranium was also having its moment. The pallid white conical blooms on the chestnut tree masked the disease we know is there.
The park today was full of families, dogs and bikes. Local school kids, under the watchful eye of their gym teacher, ran relay races to a big tree and back. What started as a cool day had turned delightfully warm and clear.
I set up at Bathesda Fountain, center stage, where I soon attracted the attention of a toddler. She could barely walk, but with a lei around her neck, she could hula. Her father gave me a dollar. Soon a young man got up from his bench and dropped a dollar bill and some coins into my case A young woman from Michigan, who danced her first hula ever while her boyfriend documented the event, netted me another $1.
A trio of Greek girls got hold of my leis and frolicked around the fountain. They asked me to play something Greek; all I could come up with was “Never on Sunday.” They had never heard of it, nor of Melina Mercouri, the Greek actress and politician who’d made the song famous long before they were born. That notwithstanding, each gave me a buck.
A stressed office worker from 55th St. had come out to the park on her lunch break to enjoy the beautiful day. Not long after we started to talk, she was swaying to “The Hukilau Song.”
About an hour into my set, a young man with a broad grin and straw hat, approached. His name was Jonathan. In about 45 minutes, he would be conducting a wedding. Since live music is always better than pre-recorded, he’d checked out the buskers and chose me to provide the processional over the kids playing guitar and mandolin. “Because you looked more like a professional musician,” he told me. I assured him I was not, but that didn’t stop him. “Can you play ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ the Iz version?”
“No, but I can play the Judy Garland version.” That seemed fine to Jonathan; we struck a deal for $25. I moved to the far end of the fountain, facing the lake, and started to entertain the wedding guests as they arrived. Between songs, surreptitiously, I rediscovered the forgotten chords I would need, so that by the time I got the nod from Jonathan I could pretty well croon the tune without mistakes. As I sang “why, oh why, can’t I,” Marielle and Ray had reached Jonathan and the ceremony began.
Afterward, everyone gathered for pictures while I sang “The Hawaiian Wedding Song,” followed by “Making Love Ukulele Style.” It was a fun gig. With $34.72 in my pocket, I exited the park.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Making Love Ukulele Style, Never on Sunday, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, The Hawaiian Wedding Song, The Hukilau Song
