Posts Tagged ‘The Hukilau Song’
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Group Dynamics
1September 25, 2014 by admin
Bethesda Fountain was buzzing with school groups today. Altogether there were 3 groups from the Brooklyn Environmental Exploration School, or BEES. They were on a scavenger hunt. The first flight of BEES was happy to stop for a hula. Their teacher contributed $3. The second flight, hearing others had been there before them, hurried away without a dance; the third danced, then hurried away. Their teacher promised to put “hukilau” on the vocabulary list.
On the eastern staircase, a class of high school kids from a private school, in blue shirts and beige pants and skirts, posed for their school picture. During a lull in the photo-taking, a half-dozen boys wandered my way. “Have you got time for a hula today?” They lined up and off we went. By the second verse of the “The Hukilau Song,” they were in perfect sync, hula to the left, hula to the right. While the kane’s danced, the wahini’s gave their critique from the sidelines. “What do you think, girls,” I asked. “Was that a good hula?”
“Not even close,” said one girl, and the others agreed, but none would don a lei to show the boys how it was done.
Time to go, the boys pulled out their wallets and each dropped at least a dollar in my case, maybe more.
In the northeast corner, by the water, a college class was arrayed around their teacher. When they were done, a few of the girls asked if they could hula. They’d seen the other groups dancing and wanted to get in on it too. They were from Marymount Manhattan College; the subject of the seminar was “Romantic Attachments.”
“What is that?” I asked the teacher. “Sex education?”
“That’s what I thought at first,” she said, “but you’d be surprised. These girls know the physical mechanics, but have no practical experience with the emotional.” At the end of the dance, she slipped a twenty out of her pocketbook. “You’re great,” she told me. “Are you here all the time? I’m going to hold more classes out here.”
Toward the end of my gig, 2 Brazilian women stopped to dance. One dark, one blond, they were tall and curvaceous, dancing the hula in a rapid, controlled style. As they walked away toward the lake, they embraced and kissed. A moment later, the brunette returned with $2. She was still dancing to her inner uke when I pocketed my $37.25 and went home.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: The Hukilau Song
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A Definition of Aloha
0August 21, 2014 by admin
Despite another gorgeous day, I skipped center stage for the shaded comfort of my spot on the path. Two days in a row in the sun was enough. On my way I stopped to chat with Meta, whom I haven’t seen in weeks. She’d been away, visiting her kids, of whom there are at least six. While we gloried in how beautiful a summer it’s been so far, Meta confessed to exhaustion. “To be honest,” she said, “I wish it would rain already.”
A park worker was hooking up the sprinklers by my spot. Together, we adjusted the arc of water so I, or my dancers, wouldn’t get wet. Unfortunately, the sprinkler ended up in a patch of myrtle on a hillside, and, with each sweep, inched downward, ever closer. I moved to the other side of the path and was able to play my complete set, dry as toast, before the water reached my feet.
Two couples made their way past me toward the boathouse. “Have you got time for a hula today?”
One of the women stopped while the others walked on. “Can you play the Hukilau?” she asked. Can I! “Let’s make it quick,” she added. “My husband’s in a hurry.”
After a single verse, she handed back the lei and hurried toward her husband and friends. Hula walk-aways do have their uses, however, because a group of picnickers, seeing the dance, got the right idea. A young blond man in a yarmulke, came running, with 3 of his buddies behind. “I love the ukulele,” he said, reaching for a lei. Soon the four of them were dancing up a storm. “Brilliant,” they repeated to each other. “Brilliant.” When they thanked me and returned to their group, my case was still empty. It looked like another walkaway, but the young man soon returned with a fiver. He was with a Jewish youth group from London and had totally fallen in love with New York.
A young woman walked by and dropped a dollar, followed by a little boy who dug into his pocket and pulled out 8 pennies. A little later, a Chinese woman pointed her camera at me for the length of “I Saw Stars.” At the end of the song I invited her to hula, but she couldn’t, she told me, as this was a live broadcast to China. “Would you like to say something to the Chinese people?”
“I wish you all health, happiness, and a lifetime of aloha. Now everyone get up and hula.”
“Hula? What is hula?”
“The native dance of Hawaii.”
“And aloe?”
“Aloha, a word for hello, good-bye, and universal good-feeling among all people.” The woman started to translate, then moved on, as if we’d gone to commercial break.
A little boy of 3 or 4 eagerly put on a lei. I launched into “The Hukilau Song,” but he stood, feet planted on the ground, stiff and straight. Only his hands moved. This hula consisted of flapping wrists and nothing else. His parents were delighted and gave me $3.
With the sprinkler almost on me, I closed up shop with $15.08 in my pocket. The last 3 days have been off the charts. To be honest, I wish it would never rain.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: I Saw Stars, The Hukilau Song
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Another Picture Perfect Day
0August 20, 2014 by admin
Another beautiful day found me again at center stage. A couple from Mexico started me off with a fiver, and once again I was off to the races, chalking up a $17.75 day. These gorgeous August afternoons have bathed the tourists in the aloha spirit.
An Indian man gave me a dollar, after which he and his wife sat on a bench in the shade for a half dozen songs, applauding after each one. A girl from London did a credible hula, then walked away. A man from Texarkana stopped to chat; he was delighted that we New Yorkers seemed to understand his drawl, not the case, he informed me, with those other Northerners he recently met in Seattle. He was very taken with John Boyd’s sacred music ensemble.
“They sent a chill up my spine,” he told me. “They’re very professional.”
“Unlike what I do here,” I said, “which is very unprofessional, but lots of fun.”
After a lengthy chat, he let me get back to my gig, joining the Indian couple in the shade.
Two willowy women from Toronto approached. They both were 6 feet tall or more, one blond, one brunette, with a photographer in their wake. “Do you mind if we take a picture?” one asked.
“Of course,” putting leis around their necks, “and then we’ll do a hula.” They made quite an impression on the people walking by, many stopping to watch and take pictures. The Texan got off his bench to snap a few himself.
A short time later, I cajoled a group of six 20-somethings to dance. They set up 3 on my left, 3 on my right. The right-hand contingent coordinated their movements to “The Hukilau Song,” throwing their nets into the sea, but the left-hand couldn’t get started and watched flat-footed until the music stopped.
I’m generally reluctant to ask women in religious garb to dance, but if I detect any interest, by way of a slackening pace or a smile, I might go for it. I’m a little less hesitant with the Hasidim, but in all cases I’ve yet to receive a positive response. This day was no exception, although, for the first time a young, round Hasid gave his bewigged wife a dollar to drop in my case.
The Texan and his wife got up to leave. “I got some great pictures,” he told me, peeling a fiver from a wad of bills. “Have you got a card, I’ll send them to you.”
Category Uncategorized | Tags: The Hukilau Song
