PLAY FROM COLUMBUS CIRCLE
The cute Italianate fellow with curly black chest-hairs overflowing his floppy halter-jeans sat on the edge of the fountain with his two membraneless tambourines, and I thought he might perform, so I watched him past 10AM. A hippy couple, guy with guitar under wraps and a halo of blond hair, gal pushing a baby in a toddler, joined just after 10, and they chatted until another couple, this gal carrying a baby, arrived. They stood around and talked as the guy got his guitar out of the case, as if truly eager to play.
Two black guys joined them---one dressed in a violet velvet cape who matter-of-factly kissed each one, guy and gal, on the lips in a good-morning greeting, the other in a brown strap undershirt and tan bells which hugged a long cock loosely against one leg. The toddler was taken out of his/her vehicle and she joyously pushed it around the steps of the fountain.
The guy began idly strumming his guitar, and after a bit one of the girls clapped her hands in rhythm enthusiastically. Two more people came up and began vociferously describing something which probably happened last night, and everyone listened seriously, the first guy absently thrumming an accompaniment, and the other baby looked intently at everything that was taking place.
I had to go, but I could imagine lovers? quarrels, songs, funny stories, hippy anecdotes, panhandling, philosophizing, poetry-reciting, comments about marriage and motherhood and women's lib, all around this framework of the casual rock-rap around the fountain. It may be they had gathered only for their own amusement, and someday I might go back to see if they changed into something commercial, casually cadging money from those who might stop to listen---for should such grand entertainment happen for free?
I visualized THEM living in a theater (as they were already), entertaining people who came to see them much as a large family would specialize in stifling smaller families with diversities of interests and activities.