The guys who play the box and guitar have added another guitar to their ensemble. They occupy the space on the steps, facing the fountain. The big bubble man is between them and the arcade. Although I can\u2019t see her, the lady with the accordion is in the arcade and is taking full advantage of the Guastavino tiling to amplify \u201cLady of Spain.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat down at my usual spot, opposite the path leading to the Boat House. As I set up I assessed the noise level. I\u2019ve played through worse. On the bench in front of me were two women, their palettes, paints and paper spread around them. No way would I obstruct their view. Tuned, hydrated, I checked the time, got to my feet, and added my voice to the chaos of the place.<\/p>\n
There were the usual dog walkers, moms\u2019 pushing strollers, selfie stickers, guided tourists, brides and birdwatchers. When a school group passes by, I spot the leader and ask, \u201cHas this group got time for a hula today?\u201d This particular leader was a stylish, Ukrainian 60-something lady, who, erect and commanding, addressed her charges. \u201cWe have been requested to hula dance. I believe we shall do so.\u201d <\/p>\n
The kids were high school age, a little reserved; only one rushed forward to take a lei. But as I dangled the leis in front of them, and the leader quietly called out names, more and more stepped forward. \u201cLots of leis left,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
A kid came forward. \u201cOne for our teacher,\u201d she said. I gave her the lei from my neck. I quickly lined everyone up, teacher in the middle, explained what was about to happen and started in on \u201cThe Hukilau Song.\u201d The students without leis also danced; we created a sensation and everyone had a good time. The teacher gave me $10, and various kids chipped in.<\/p>\n
Walking down the path toward me, I watched a man reach into his back pocket and pull out his wallet. I\u2019m singing \u201cTiptoe through the Tulips.\u201d He\u2019s heading straight for me, drops a buck, throws his arm around me and joins in on \u201cknee deep in flowers we\u2019ll stray,\u201d in a Tiny Tim falsetto. As camp as Tiny Tim was in the 60\u2019s, no one under 40 ever heard of him.<\/p>\n
A grizzled old man dressed all in black walked by and eyed me, eyed my case. A while later he came by again in the other direction. The third time he came up behind me, threw a tightly folded bill into my case, and walked off.<\/p>\n
With about 15 minutes left in my set, the ladies on the bench started packing up their painting. One of them walked up to me and put $2 down. \u201cThank you,\u201d she said, \u201cyou provided a lovely accompaniment to our work.\u201d<\/p>\n
On my way out of the park I heard a carriage driver point out the statue of Daniel Webster, senator and orator. It was pleasing to hear the driver get it right; so often they say Daniel Webster wrote the dictionary. Too bad he added, \u201cnot to be confused with the man who wrote the dictionary, Nathaniel Webster.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"