On the Monday after the big storm in January, feeling something like a caged tiger, I set out for the gym, leaped over a snow pile at the corner, fell and broke my leg. I write this now to convey the sheer joy I felt yesterday, bound though I was by a walking boot and cane. Going out with my uke two days in a row approached bliss.<\/p>\n
The park retained its overall earthen colors. The sky was mostly gray; warm, wet winds blew the occasional hole in the clouds to let in some sun. I saw more daffs than yesterday. The rose wood was greening, and when I looked hard I saw the nubs of growing tips. Except for the stray forsythia floret, nothing.<\/p>\n
The guitar platoon at the Imagine Mosaic is back, if they ever left.<\/p>\n
At the foot of the western staircase, where the acrobats work, 2 clown-like guitarists sang and danced to silly songs. They’d set up a cardboard bandstand reading Benny and Griff, and seemed ready to do their show all day. I assessed the situation for conflict. No amplification, no foul. “I play over there,” I told them, gesturing with my cane. They were very nice, they called me “sir.”<\/p>\n
After I sang my openers, “Making Love Ukulele Style,” “Sunday,” “Fit as a Fiddle,” “I Saw Stars,” and “Ukulele Lady,” a man my age, who’d been sitting by the water to my left, came up and asked, “Surfboard accident?” He complimented my voice, gave me a dollar and encouraged me to keep up the good work.<\/p>\n
A slim, beautiful black woman, close-cropped hair, flowing clothes and bare arms hula-ed toward the benches with her male companion. I encouraged her to put on a lei and do a proper hula, and she did. We went through both verses of “The Hukilau Song,” by which time she’d drawn a crowd. Even her friend was taking pictures. She gave me back the lei and returned to the bench.<\/p>\n
An older Asian woman stepped forward and put a dollar in my case. She had been in the crowd and appreciated the expressive beauty of the hula.<\/p>\n
The next dancer was a Dallas girl of 7 or 8, who pranced around quite freely while her mother got it on video. Then 3 more Texans, from a teenage tour from El Paso, gave their rendition of the hula. Quite a bit of banter and dollars were exchanged, as their classmates wanted in on what was happening. “You’re my second group from Texas today,” I told them. “Is this Texas in New York Week?”<\/p>\n
“It’s a big state,” I was told.<\/p>\n
With my final song, “Little Grass Shack,” I sat down to count the day’s haul, $12, then hoisted myself to my feet and started home. At the foot of the stairs, Benny and Griff were still at it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"