Late May, and the colors remain muted under a wet, gray sky.\u00a0 Coming down the path toward the road, I spotted one pink tradescantia flower. \u00a0The day felt colder than the official 70 degrees.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
As I crossed the road, I heard a shout, and there in front of me was Dominick and Kendra.\u00a0 I met Dominick in the summer of 2007, during my first days as a busker. He had advised me to price my CD at $10, not $5, so as not to ruin it for everyone else. Kendra was new to the scene in 2010 or so.\u00a0 She played the ukulele then with 2-3 different partners, now she plays violin.\u00a0 We discussed the old timers, Arlen and Meta, dulcimer and harp. \u00a0I hadn’t seen them in 2 years.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re on their boat somewhere,\u201d Dominick said.\u00a0 He had sometimes joined them on his guitar, playing a complex line from Scarlotti, Vivaldi, or Pachelbel, but mostly he played soft rock. \u00a0He had refused to join John Boyd and \u201chis child abuse symphony orchestra,\u201d as Kendra called it, during the consolidation after The Quiet Zone Wars in the early 2010’s. \u00a0Then he disappeared.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cI haven\u2019t seen you guys in years,\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cDid you leave the city?\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cWe moved to the east side, farther south,\u201d said Dominick.\u00a0 \u201cI can\u2019t play anywhere near the fountain; it makes me too angry.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Boyd Family Singers were in the arcade.\u00a0 I laid out my case and began my set.\u00a0 A toddler stared up at me.\u00a0 \u201cHave you got time for a hula today?\u201d\u00a0 His mom encouraged him.\u00a0 Soon the two of them were swaying to \u201cThe Hukilau Song.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A young couple rode their bikes into the plaza and stopped to rest.\u00a0 After a few songs, the woman walked up with $2 in her hand.\u00a0 \u201cHave you got time for a hula today?\u201d\u00a0 She demurred.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Another woman walking by pulled a dollar from her wallet and gave it to me. \u00a0She had a big grin.\u00a0 \u201cYou make the best music I\u2019ve heard in the park,\u201d she told me.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Toward the end of my set, the Chinese woman accordionist set up 90 degrees from me, at the south side of the fountain.\u00a0 A little close, I thought, but with only a short time remaining I played on.\u00a0 At least it wasn’t the lugubrious Russian.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Having tidied up the area around the bench where she ate lunch, a 40-something woman donated the last dollar of the day, for a total of 6 in all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"