Posts Tagged ‘Making Love Ukulele Style’
-
A Moment of Sweet Aloha
0August 5, 2016 by admin
Except for the cleome and roses, and a few pathetic lantana, the park has very little color. It’s a beautiful day. The picture takers at the Imagine Mosaic were undeterred by the police tape surrounding it, and the sign that said it was undergoing routine maintenance. I wove my way through the crowd and made my way to center stage.
The big bubble man was in front of the arcade, and the cowboy crooned near the path to the boathouse. “What time are you quitting,” I asked him.
“Noon.”
“You know it’s after noon now,” I said.
“Oh, okay, give me a minute.”
I sat by the fountain, set up my stuff and quietly tuned my uke until he was done. Before I got to the end of my opener, “Making Love Ukulele Style,” a man walking by dropped a buck into my case.
A trio of women ranging in age from 25 to 55 needed a little convincing, but soon enough they danced the hula. One of them gave me $2, then the others also kicked in. It seemed an auspicious start, so, a few minutes later, when I put leis around the necks of 2 teenage girls from Charlotte NC, and started singing “The Hukilau Song,” I didn’t expect them to walk away.
A young girl from Holland came off the bench, where she had been sitting with her parents, and asked to hula. As she danced, the sun glinted off her braces.
“Can you play ‘Tiny Bubbles’?” a heavy-set man in black shouted out. I played it for him; he gave me $2 then sat down with his wife to hear more.
After a few numbers, they got up to leave. “You guys from New York?”
“Toronto.”
“Oh, the movie version of New York.”
I took in a single here, a single there. Down the path came a Chinese bride and groom, along with their photographer. I immediately started singing “The Hawaiian Wedding Song,” as is my custom, although in all the years I’ve been busking I’ve never made a dime for doing so. This, however, as the song says, was “the moment of sweet Aloha.” The photographer gave me $2; as he posed the couple by the fountain, I put leis around their necks. When they were done, the photographer put the leis back on my case and inquired about my CD. The price was right; he gave me a 10-dollar bill, asking, “All ukulele?”
“100%”
At the end of my set, I stuffed $21 in my pocket. A 50-something couple from San Francisco watched as I packed up. We chatted, comparing the relative wonders of our two cities. “Can you play a little something for us?”
I took my uke out again and sang, “I Wonder Where My Little Hula Girl Has Gone,” for which the man gave me 2 more dollars.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: I Wonder Where My Little Hula Girl Has Gone, Making Love Ukulele Style, The Hawaiian Wedding Song, Tiny Bubbles
-
No Advice for You
0July 22, 2016 by admin
A stand of creamy white coneflowers with gold button centers gave height and color to the palette at Women’s Gate. I spied a few scrawny hydrangea florets under the dogwood. On the north pergola, the wisteria has gone crazy with twisty vines. In my many years of busking I have yet to see it bloom. There are pink hosta, and double orange daylilies, kwanzaa.
At center stage, I sat on the hot stone surrounding the fountain and unpacked my hula girls, leis and CDs. The ritual focuses me. I use a capo to keep the bills from blowing away, and lay out a sign, “Got Aloha?” which came with a purchase from Aloha Shirt Shop. My dashboard Hawaiian uke player is showing his age; I’ve recently added a cocktail umbrella for him to rest under. I tune, hydrate, remove my watch, note the time, stand and play. Today I opened with “Making Love Ukulele Style.”
Two teenagers, both wearing mirrored sunglasses, wanted a picture. They were from Mexico, and knew how to hula. Soon I had them going to the hukilau.
A family of women stopped to listen, at least 3 generations. A 35-40-year-old woman wore a sticker, “Grandmas for Peace.”
“So who’s the grandma?
“I am,” she said, although to my eye she was more daughter, sister, mommie. “And I want to hula. Where are the hoops?”
“No hoops, leis,” I said. She didn’t seem to mind. Her hula was spirited and varied. She had her family howling with laughter.
Two girls from Oxford, UK, danced the hula and walked away. Or, alternatively, I drove them away with stories about my stay in Oxford, England, long before they were born. A group of kids from Sweden, Michigan and New Jersey stood at a distance and listened, finally tossing in some change.
A boy of 8 or 9 ran up with a handful of coins, mostly nickels. “You want to hula?” I asked, reaching for a lei. He nodded eagerly. “What are you going to do with that?” He offered his nickels to me. “Put them in the case.” He did. “Now your hands are free to hula.” With a grin of delight, he danced to the hukilau. “You want to keep going?” He did. He told me he was from California.
A young woman from the Bronx, with lip, nose and ear piercings, and severely cut green hair, rocked out to “The Hukilau Song.” She jumped around through the intro, teased out a hula into the first verse, then quit before throwing her net into the sea. I took the lei back from her and she walked off.
A tall, elderly man had been walking around the fountain, sitting for a while, listening from a distance. He finally came up and introduced himself. Al was a retired doctor who played jazz piano. “I love it that you play all the old tunes,” he said. We talked for a while, he gave me a dollar, then he walked off to take a phone call.
A Swiss couple sat around the fountain. They were newly-weds. We chatted about New York, Zurich and Montreux. They sat down as I turned to play, but gave me a dollar when they left.
At the end of my set, Al came around again. He was supposed to have met someone, but she called and said she’d be late. “How long do you think I should wait?”
“I’ve been married 42 years and just became a grandfather,” I told him. “I have no advice for you.” Swinging my uke onto my back, I wished him Aloha.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: alohashirtshop.com, Making Love Ukulele Style, The Hukilau Song
-
Good to be Back
0April 20, 2016 by admin
The air was warm, the breezes cool. “What a beautiful day for fishing,” as the Hukilau song says. Spring sprang apace. On my way to Bethesda Fountain, I picked a violet hiding among the myrtle.
When I got to center stage, I saw Rakeem seated on a bench, saxophone in his lap, talking to a guy with a guitar case.
“You done here?”
“I’ve been done for half an hour.”
I started to set up. “Where’s the cowboy?”
Rakeem pointed with his chin. Over my left shoulder, by the water, the cowboy crooned quietly. “I can live with that,” I said.
I organized my paraphernalia, the solar-powered hula girls, the CDs, the big kahuna dashboard doll, a sticker reading “Got Aloha?” that came with my aloha shirt, and leis, lots of leis. All tuned up, I opened with “Making Love Ukulele Style,” then worked through my routine for 30 minutes, before a child ran up to me and put $3 in my case. I never saw her coming. I turned and watched her running back to her father by the water.
“Have you got time for a hula today?” A boy of 18-24 months agreed to dance. I folded the lei in half and with his mom’s help got it past his sunglasses. He didn’t have a clue. I pointed to the solar-powered hula girls. Staring at them, he started to move his arms and hips. His mother tried to turn him around, so she could get a picture, but he kept turning back to the dolls. By this time a crowd had gathered, always a good sign for a busker. Not only did I get $2 from mom, but a man, who’d gotten up off the bench to take a picture, handed me a buck before going back to the bench to sit down. “You’ve got a good voice,” he told me.
A little while later a woman took my picture and gave me a buck. Between songs I spotted my West Indies friend, an elderly woman with a proud posture and a bright smile, whom for years I’ve seen walking, east to west, almost every day. “Good afternoon,” I said, touching the brim of my panama hat.
A 40-something, in business casual, seemed glad to give me a dollar. “Thank you.” “No, thank you.”
I checked my watch, which I keep propped up in my case so I can see it. Five minutes left. I started in on “Tiptoe through the Tulips,” but didn’t get past the intro. Maggie the dog, and her owner, Marcel, were making their way down the path toward me. Marcel and I chatted; Maggie sniffed at the 8 singles in my case. It felt good to be back.As I walked up the stairs at the end of my set, a man seated at the top said, “Princess Poo-Poo-ly has Plenty Pa-Pa-Ya.”
To which I responded, “and she loves to give them away.”
High-five. When you play the ukulele in the park, you have to expect this kind of thing.
Category Uncategorized | Tags: Making Love Ukulele Style, Princess Poo-Poo-Ly Has Plenty Pa-Pa-Ya, The Hukilau Song, Tiptoe through the Tulips
