The signs of the approaching autumn are multiplying: red crabapples are ripening on Central Park\nWest; orange hips cover the rose bushes; spiky red dogwood fruit hangs above\nthe button-seller\u2019s head. The gomphrena continues\nto dominate behind the benches, plush purple buttons slowly swaying on tall\nstems. The only real color in Strawberry\nFields comes from the pink dog roses across the path from the peace-loving peoples\u2019\nplaque. Next year\u2019s magnolia flowers are\nlocked up in 2-inch buds that will survive the winter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Italian accordion player and the jazz violinist had Bethesda Fountain to themselves; I moved on to the maple.\u00a0 A Croatian family on bicycles stopped to ask directions to the Bow Bridge.\u00a0 The 20-something daughter interpreted for her parents.\u00a0 \u201cMy father wants to know where you are from,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHere. New York.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour father then\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNew Jersey.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHis father?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEastern Europe. Near\nKiev, which was part of tsarist Russia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy father is from Ukraine,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The father gave me a dollar. \n\u201cI love New York,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A Japanese man carrying a bass viol on his back stopped to listen to me.\u00a0 Between songs he asked me about my repertoire; as it turned out, he too played the old songs.\u00a0 By another stroke of luck, we were in tune.\u00a0 We played \u201cSunny Side of the Street\u201d and \u201cI Can\u2019t Give You Anything But Love.\u201d He was a busker in Tokyo and had come to the U.S. for the Detroit jazz festival.\u00a0 The bass was a rental.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After our 2 numbers, I directed him to the fountain and to other\nbusking locations. Resuming my solo act,\nI played for another 30 minutes and only received another dollar from a passerby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere\u2019re lots of people at the fountain,\u201d the big bubble\nman told me on his way to the boathouse bathrooms to pee and refill his bucket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Taking his advice, I moved my gear. The change of venue did nothing to change my\nluck. It was looking again as if I\nwouldn\u2019t make carfare. As I started my final\nnumber, \u201cLittle Grass Shack,\u201d a 40-something woman walked by and put me over\nwith a dollar.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"