#73: The Lost Cell Phone

Today I'm presenting you with my latest adventure where I lost my cell phone.

 
MON APR 20 2026

I brought my guitar to the Jack Hardy Songwriter group which was down at the new place, Houghton Hall on 30th near Madison. I got there very early and I met the guy behind the desk. Hhis name is Adam. He said he was also a songwriter and has an Instagram and does a lot of political stuff.

Only two others, John and Ina came, and myself. We played our new songs and finished quickly. Leaving, I walked Ina all the way over to 8th Avenue and then back to 7th Avenue because we got to talking too much and realized we had walked the block too far.

I got her on the subway and was about to walk home when I put in my AirPods and, reaching for my phone, realized I did not have it on me. Then I had this memory of having seen it on the couch in that room as I was putting on my coats.

So now I’m in a total panic and I run the four very long blocks and four more shorter ones. It was a very cold night and I had on two coats so I unzipped them because it made me hot. I was panting and then I thought, “I wonder if they’re even open. I’ve got to get there faster, but I don’t have any money on me.” For some reason, I totally forgot I could use a credit card if I’d wanted to grab a cab. Panic brain.

Finally got 30th St. it’s kind of a dark street but there’s bright lights where the hall is so I race up and – thank god – it’s open. I am so happy, I see Adam and I say, “Oh I left my phone upstairs I think. I’ve lost it, but I think it’s here and this is my last chance to find it. I think I left it on the couch.”


I said, "It's a last ditch attempt but maybe it's here. I'm so glad you're still here." He said no one had turned anything in. It's doubtful it's here.


Suddenly, in my ears, I hear that familiar little bong sound of my AirPods connecting to a phone. So I click it once and one of my songs start to play. In fact, it was the demo of the song I was gonna present that night, which I had been listening to in order to remember what I wrote! My phone! That's my phone!

“It’s here!” I blur it out. “It must be here but because I just connected to it it’s gotta be upstairs.” I was so relieved. Wherever it was, it was within proximity of my physical person. That’s all that mattered.

So he looks down at his book and he says there’s somebody in there now. So I said, “Can I just, you know, knock on the door and ask if my phone is in there and he said no. He said they paid for that time and they get all of that time. I said so when did they get out? He said, “You’re not gonna like it. In half an hour.” It was now 9:30.

But he assured me he would get them out of there at 10 because he was ready to go home. They were the last group. I was exasperated and to make it worse, I had no phone on me to play games or whatever to pass the time.

Luckily, there was a library there of books. Theatre books, plays, Shakespeare, how-to books, I found one about actors and The Voice. So I’m just reading this scholastic text by this actress about how you use your voice and how you can train your voice, remembering how much stronger my voice has gotten since I started busking four times a week.

Finally, I go upstairs to stand right outside the door waiting for it to open so that I can get home to supposedly take pills at 10 PM, but I don’t have my phone on me so I’m not exactly sure what time it is!

Finally, I am absolutely sure it must be 10 minutes after 10 so I quietly walk over to the door, knowing that Adam has me on camera because he’s watching the cameras, knowing he had cautioned me no to disturb them.

I tap on the door. Nothing. Room is empty. I open the door. Right there on the couch is my phone.

And then I remembered. WE are the group that had the room until 10 o’clock. He was keeping me out of my own meeting!

I was sitting down there for a half an hour for absolutely no reason and grumbling the whole time because I know that interrupting a meeting for a quick "I left my phone" is no big deal.

When I told Adam, he looked puzzled. He asked me what was the name of my group and I said well it was under the name of Carolann. He never made the connection that she had reserved our songwriter group. So when we left, he didn’t clock that that meeting was over.

He apologized and apologized and he said he was just filling in for a friend and didn’t really know the system.

Then it hit me.


The only reason he was still there when I came back for my phone was because he thought that meeting was still in progress!

So now I’m very thankful that the only price I had to pay to get my phone back was to wait for half an hour.


Lesson? Sometimes what seems to be bad can turn out to be very good. I have my phone. Life can go back to normal.


Steve


UPCOMING LIVE APPEARANCES!


MAY 7 BLUE TSUNAMI CONCERT SERIES BY STEPHEN HANKS
Gavin and I will be appearing to sing "Come Together" at Don't Tell Mama for this fundraiser for Democratic Candidates.
https://shows.donttellmamanyc.com/9824-project-2026-blue-tsunami-5-7-26

MAY 16
SATURDAY AFTERNOON
1-2:30 PM
THE BEATLES SING-A-LONG
GAVIN AND STEVE
STRAUS PARK
WEST END AVENUE & 107TH ST
https://fospark.com/event/beatles-concert-sing-a-long-with-strawberry-feels-duo-1pm/

EVERY TUESDAY & WEDNESDAY MORNING
9-11 AM
STRAWBERRY FIELDS
MAGICAL MYSTERY MORNING MEDITATION
WITH GAVIN AND STEVE

#72: Moments in the Park

This morning, I’m free writing and thinking of the past week. I’ve been so busy, I can barely keep up with anything. My newsletter is two weeks late, and my diary is way behind. In the past, this would cause me great stress. But I’ve been stumbling along by keeping forward physical motion, good cooking habits, yoga stretches, and time to myself to just think.

BUT AT THE PARK

I invited a woman to sit next to me after she asked for “Here, There and Everywhere.” She was really shy but had a bright smile that never stopped, beaming at us from across the mosaic circle. She finally acceded and immediately began blushing. The crowd loved her.

I sang to her with my arm around her. Behind her glasses, I realized that two steady streams of tears, unbroken, were pouring out. She hugged me more. When the song was over, all she said was, “That was our song. Thank you for bringing him back.”

As I write this, I’m bawling my eyes out. At that moment, I felt like a conduit. I wasn’t intruding or manipulating her. I was simply the vessel of the song, the empty space into which she could safely pour her emotions. IOW, I wasn’t crying along with her. It all happens too fast for me to get that immediately involved.

Here’s another one. A little girl. Maybe 6 or 7 or 8. She still spoke babytalk. She walked up, perfectly composed, and made a request. I didn’t quite understand. Then I heard. “New York, New York.” You want “New York, New York?” She nodded yes.

I said, “We only sing Beatles songs. So we…” Then I looked into the little girl’s eyes and just went for broke, “Start spreading the news. I’m leaving today!” I thought that’s enough. It’s sweet. Done my duty.

After a song or two, she comes back over and this time the mom, very sweet, pretty, unadorned mid-30s perhaps, says, “She wants to SING “New York New York.” and then she holds up a glass bottle with very white grainy dirt plugged with a cork. It looked like it came from an old West apothecary.

“These are her grandfather’s ashes and he loved New York and The Beatles. And she wanted to do this for him.”

I said, “Let’s do it.”

She climbed up onto the bench next to me in my bright pink Sgt. Pepper jacket, I held the mic to her and the tiniest voice came out.

“Baby, I'm from New York
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There's nothin' you can't do
Now you're in New York”

The Alicia Keyes version not the Liza Minnelli Kander & Ebb version. You should have seen my face. This tiny angelic raven-haired child singing about the concrete jungle.)

Then, as if she were being directed in a movie where she was perfectly rehearsed, she thanked me and climbed down from the bench to a massive ovation from the crowd. She barely noticed. Her mom, blushing from all the attention, leaned over and thanked me as she red-facedly followed her off.

That happened. If it were in a movie, you wouldn’t believe it.

This week I got a reliable wireless connector to the mic and suddenly I’m way more free to interact with people.

And our IMAGINE Circle is much easier because when I go around asking where everyone is from, I’m closer and can make a quick comment.

Today I started asking people, “Why did you come here? What were you looking for?”

I didn’t make them answer. But the shadow of war lingers everywhere and the peace movement feels like it’s lost its voice. Everything these days is about war. Fight to win. Fight for viewers. Fight for attention. It goes to the core of how we are being led to think.

You barely have time to loathe this week’s villain before the new one is set up for the job.

Now during Spring Break, we’re getting big groups of school kids. College and high school. For the most part, none of them know John Lennon or The Beatles. But the mosaic is on the tour route and you pass through it going to other places in the park.

What Gavin and I must look like to them. Two old guys in bright pink and blue satin military jackets, with glittering gold epaulets and fringe sitting in the sun with a guitar. We’re not really an official anything there. But Yoko wanted a living memorial with music and that’s what we do.

For the tour guide, they’re trying to keep a pace. Sometimes they ignore us because they have a speech, which they give, including the fact that it's smaller than it looks in photos. And then they say, “You have a moment for pictures.”

But this week, the first guide just turned it over to us like we were an attraction ourselves.

I just blurted out what the circle is for, to imagine a better world. I tell them how John said you have to create, in your mind, the world you want to live in. Then make that world happen. Looking into those young faces, the reality of it all smacked me in the face. I kept thinking, "Good luck, kids!"

Then I got up and led them around the circle and we sang Imagine together. It was beautiful.

I hope they’re teaching The Beatles music in schools.


I'm excited that the sun has come out. The world will be passing by us and I can't wait to meet them.


Steve