Last Musical Moments with Mom

Last night, Billy C and were jamming on our ukes with our friend Victor K on guitar. This was a different kind of jam for us as Victor is a talented musician. I'm not saying that we don't know other talented people, but when you say "take it, Victor," he takes it. In fact, when Billy C or I asked one another to take it, Victor usually took it. The only thing we took was credit.

We finished our set with "So Lonesome I Could Cry," with Billy C singing melody and me singing harmony. It evolved into a meditation of sorts with Vic taking solo duties as we strummed along.

At the end, we began talking about music and its spiritual essence--not the exact words Victor used, but close enough. The main point was that words couldn't really express what he felt. He told us how there was nothing like playing with friends just for the sake of playing.

It made me think of Mom's last couple of years. Do did some research on Alzheimer's and learned that musical memory is something that stays with us even as our other memories leave. Mom didn't have Alzheimer's. She had Parkinson's. But the same truth still holds--at least in her case.

I stayed with her one night at one of the facilities where she had lived. She had had a very bad day and the woman who ran this home didn't know what to do with her. So I stayed the night.

I didn't sleep much because about every half-hour or so, Mom would try to get out of her bed. At the time, she couldn't walk much and getting out of bed would have been disastrous for her. So I'd go over and take her hand and say "Mom, you don't have to get up yet." She'd say "Can I sleep for just one more hour?" I'd say "yes" and then stroke her hair as she lay back down. Eventually, she'd drift back off.

At around 3 AM, while still sleeping, she started singing. Now Mom had studied opera and had been an excellent singer in her day. She sang an aria and, considering she was lying on the bed, she sang in perfect pitch and kept perfect time, her foot tapping out the rhythm as it stuck out from under her blanket.

And she sang the whole thing. At full volume. Sublime.

A year or so later, as her disease progressed, we moved Mom into a rehab center for evaluation. Most of this time, she ate and drank very little and slept a lot. Sometimes, when awake, she would hallucinate. We would be sitting and talking (she, her bed), when she would suddenly get this look of horror on her face. She say "Don't let me go!" and I would hold her hand more tightly while the episode passed. I realized, finally, that she thought that she was walking with me and was losing her balance--that she was falling. So, when it happened again, I'd say, "It's alright, Mom. I've got you," and she'd calm down.

One day, I brought my uke by for a visit and found her asleep. I sat there for awhile, strumming a random chord progression. Lo and behold, Mom started singing with me--again, on pitch, even though my fingers traveled carelessly from chord to chord. No words, just notes. But I felt like we were talking, so I played until she came awoke and talked with me a little bit.

Soon Mom moved to hospice. We kept reminding ourselves that sometimes people go into hospice and they're still around for years.

Once in hospice, she began the three-month decline until her death. In the beginning, she'd drift in and out of consciousness. She'd be out most of the day because, at night, she would go into sundowning mode, staying too antsy to sleep. She said very little during most of my visits.

One time, again armed with my uke, I brought a fake-it book and played some songs for her, many of them hymns. I came across one I didn't know. It had a Latin title. I asked her if she knew it. She then awoke to lecture to me about an aria with a similar sounding title and then sang it to me--again in fill voice, in perfect pitch.

And then fell silent.

That was the last time she sang for me.

Now, I'm thinking of how Billy C and I used to play with our Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, and Erector Sets, sometimes building hybrid constructions using all three, while Mom had Madame Butterfly playing on the stereo as she did her housework. We didn't think much of it because we figured that's just what everyone's mother did.

Thanks for the music, Mom. I can hear you still.

Uke at Do's Dos

Uked at Do's tonight with Billy C in attendance.

The night started slow. I got a call on my cell from Mike C, former student of many years ago. He's about 40 now and he's in own because his uncle is dying. He wanted to get together some time this weekend to take a break from the hospice.

Worked on Sweet Jane, which sounded pretty cool. We tried sneaking into it without the traditional opening riff, using Do on the dumbek instead, followed by me singing the first verse a capella (except for the dumbek), and then Billy C coming in with the riff on the chorus. After finishing one run-through, Billy C started into Satellite of Love which I thought was a cool blending of the two songs. It sounded like he was just finishing Sweet Jane, but--surprise!--it's now Satellite of Love!

The we did Tweedley Dee. I kinda suggested it because I felt Donita was getting sad. This weekend is the anniversary of Jim's passing. A couple of Jim momentos around the house caught her eye and she became bummed. I thought the song would cheer her up a little.

We then did Ofuskee. Not our best rendering, but we all like that song. One thing that pepped it up is Billy C doing a solo that was both odd and sublime. Up until that point, none of us did solos, I don't think.

Tomorrow, I'm going to join Mike in Murrieta for breakfast. Afterwards, Do and I may take Mama C to see her friend who is not doing so well. She and her husband are old friends of the family and they are the parents of a good friend who passed away a few years ago. She has diabetes and recently had her leg amputated and has trouble taking food. No appetite.

A sad weekend shaping up, but it had a good start.

Uke at Do's

We hadn't played together for awhile, so Do and I decided to to try tonight. Billy C couldn't make, seeing's how how his beaked was stuffed up due to a recent bizarre snorkeling accident.

So I go to Do's. We decided to play all of these songs with lots of chords, starting with "If I Only Had a Brain" The version she has is in a key unfriendly to both of our voices. I have a version at school in a friendlier key, but that did us no good. So we look on the internet to see if we can find that version, or a simialr one. Of course, since this is a mega-chord song, we felt it would be best if the actual chord fingerings would be there with the song.

We found one and played awhile, but Do thought some of the chord progressions from her version would work better if they could be transposed. But the chords are like D6 with an subliminal 9th and C12 with an dislocated 2nd and stuff like that. You know, the kind that take tentacles instead of fingers to make.

I find that I get frustrated trying to figure stuff like that out as a committee. I tend to want to go off and figure it out myself or just play the damn thing. I think it's a product of me not being an experienced musician and not having as much patience as I think I have. Even so, I Usually like what comes out of that process. Do has more experience with that than I do. Do, on the other hand, has a lot more experience than me working with other musicians and hammering out an arrangement. Anyway, I found myself spiraling into terminal crank mode. I think she sensed my frustration, so we moved on to "Paper Moon."

So I guess she wins the diplomacy award. I win the cranky award.

This was also a little frustrating because of one tricky chord change, but, after having played this song half-assedly for about a year, I had an epiphany as to how that chord change could be more easily accomplished. I find that, where possible, if I just bar the offensive chord, that usually leads to a solution of some sort. This solution started out with barring and ended with sliding my fingers from the barred chord to the unbarred chord. Also, I have always had trouble with the bridge on this song, but we worked that out too. Didn't exactly nail the song, but we played through it enough that we can both practice it and eventually get it down.

We also tried "I'll See You in My Dreams." Our fingers were twisting all over that fretboard.

We fizzled into "Sway" and tried working into "Perhaps. Perhaps, Perhaps," but we didn't know that song well enough. "Sway" is perfect for Do's voice and, when I first heard her sing it, I thought it would be cool to work "Perhaps into it it somehow as either a dialog between two dancers or even an inner dialog for a woman.

A lot of baby steps for me tonight. So I got a lot to practice this week.

Rockin' Open Mike Night

It has been along time since I came away from an open mike night at the Folk Center feeling this good. A lot of good performers--a couple of duds--but this was the strongest evening in a long, long time.

Highlights:

Do sang her song about her health class that brought down the house. It was a lusty romp. A few kids were in the audience and she worried about the graphic language--but pushed through anyway. This is a pretty liberal crowd and, I think, for even those parents who might have found it objectionable, she answered pretty much every question a kid could come up with. I think some even took notes.

I followed Do with my song about the eco-system. I think I'm calling it "The Carbon Footprint Blues." Here is a sample of the lyrics:

Hummingbird hides while I hike the mountain pass

Hummingbird hides while I hike the mountain pass

He’s afraid to fly—he’d like to kick my ass.

Lizard reads the writin’ on the mountain slope

Lizard reads the writin’ on the mountain slope

Sets in the sun as he tri-i-ies to cope

Cause we’re trampin’, stampin’, leavin’ our footprints everywhere

We’re pollutin’, de-evolutin’, can’t drink the water or breath the air

Pissin’ off the birds and bees

Whoa! Mama Nature’s gonna bring us to our knees.

Yeah, I know. I need to record this stuff.

This 12-year-old girl and her younger brother took the stage. I sat expecting the usual cute kid kind of performance. Well, they ripped into this version of this Indigo Girls song. The little girl started singing and geez-o-pete she sang like a trouper. She had this beautiful, authoritative alto voice that blew everyone away. Then the boy broke into this guitar solo. They just set the house on fire.

Billy C sang his song about our grandfather and his chili--a really nice tune. It captures some of the essence of our grandfather. Billy C wasn't happy with the song afterwards--but I think it is pretty damn good. I just think it was one of those nights where one doesn't fully connest to the material. That, and maybe the song has to metamorph a little--but that just takes time.

Anyway, it was a good evening and really went by pretty fast.

Make A Horrible Noise

So at this past Sunday's uke circle, somebody whipped out "Stand by Me." This is another one of those early tunes that I think is pure poetry when done right. This older lady in the group took the vocal. She had this deep throaty voice--practically a tenor. When she finished, we just kept playing and Uke Forever did this sweet little solo and it was very quiet and meditative. I think we could have played that song for the whole two hours.

So I decided that I needed to learn the song in a key that fit my range.

So I get a version off chordie and take it to school so I can practice between classes like I always do. I'm having a little trouble with it because I'm working with tabs and I only sort of know how the song goes.

So, as I'm struggling and concentrating on the tabs and words in front of me, this loud, mooing kind of sound starts beside me and kind of startles me. I stop and turn to my right and one of my colleagues is standing there. She says, "I love this song," and continues this cow sound that sounds almost like singing only different. I tell her that I'm having trouble with it and let her sing while I play--thinking that maybe I'm o far off-key that I am causing her to sound bad but, no, she really does sing like a cow and is tone deaf to boot but apparently that doesn't bother her and she keeps singing while students who often stand around with me playing rhythm instruments kind of stop as if they have just witnessed some horrible accident and can't look away.

But I keep playing because I think maybe on some level that it is a noble effort and that, if not beautiful, it is at least sublime.

Riverside Ukulele Liberation Front in the News and the Meeting that Wasn't Going To Happen but Did

Here's a link to the Press Enterprise article on the Riverside Ukulele Liberation Front:

http://www.pe.com/lifestyles/stories/PE_Fea_Daily_D_ukes0901.36221dc.html

If you scroll down to just below the byline to where it says "Interactive: The Riverside Ukulele Liberation Front" and click on the "Riverside Ukulele Liberation Front" part of it, you'll see a cool slide show featuring me taking to much time tuning my ukulele, as well as some f the circles musical stylings.

Last month, we had decided to postpone this month's meeting until the weekend after labor day. Big mistake. The article appeared and pretty soon, people were calling and asking about it. So, Do and I showed up just in case any newbies came.

There were seven.

So, we met some new folk and played a little. Not everyone stayed because it was so hot in the basement (today's temp was a round 110). Do sent home for a fan, so that helped a lot. Next week, we all bring fans.

Riverside Ukulele Liberation Front, 3rd Meeting

Each meeting gets better and better. We had nine folks today. Three of our regulars were absent and sorely missed.

The playlist: Beautiful Sunday with Do taking vocals. Jamaica Farewell, with Billy C singing. Eric lead us in Daydream. Then, Eric brught in Psycho Killer and we worked on that ne for awhile. Carl and Liam the Younger took uke solos.

What made it fun was that we really worked the songs, really layering the music. A great afternoon.

Jammin' with Bill

I served the folk music public today as a volunteer for the 27th Annual Folk Music Festival Today. I took the morning shift, working first at a musical instrument check-in room and later as a runner for the fiddle workshop. I thought the fiddle workshop would be fun, but the instructor mostly talked and the group did very little fiddling. Only two participants played the fiddle with any skill. So the fiddling was Jack Benny-esque at best.

Otherwise, music filled the air.

The Canaries performed at the open mike stage, but we weren't ready. Do performed her bosom song. As she left the stage, we shouted for her to sing a song she plays on the uke, so she got back onstage and sang that. Then we shouted for her to do "Tinfoil Hat," so she did. She was very good.

Billy C and I got to see and hear John McEuen who used the play banjo and fiddle with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band back in the day. McEuen also taught Steve Martin how to play banjo. McEuen's guest was some 14-year-0ld mandolin prodigy who played like a possessed mofo.

After that performance. It was time for the final workshop of the day. Uke Forever was on schedule to teach a ukulele workshop, but Billy C and I wanted to go t a folk historian's workshop instead. Then, on our way, we saw an elderly man being guided to UF's room. He had to be in his 90's. He appeared quite feeble, in fact. I noticed that he had very thick white hair. That's when I realized that it was none other than ukemaster Bill Tapia. I realized that, indeed, he must be appearing in UF's workshop.

So Billy C and I zoomed over to UF's workshp and, sure enough, there sat Bill Tapia. He looked like he could be any elderly gentleman--frail, maybe a little alone. But when he began playing, he transformed. You could see the eyes light up and the body energize. He dominated the workshop, regaling us with stories from his early days playing in big bands and singing songs. His playing was spot on.

So there we were, about 30 workshop attendees, getting a performance from a uke legend.

UF ocassionally stepped in to show the newbies some chords and teach them some simple songs. UF led us in "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands." I led the singing because no one else seemed to know the words.

I think Bill Got a little bred because he out of the blue asked me "How do you make a 'C' chord?" I made a "C"chord. Then "How do you make an 'E7?'" I made the "E7." I kind f panicked because he kept throwing chords at me. But I showed him every chord.

Then he turned to Billy C with the same drill. Then he asked "Now, everybody play those chords as I call them." Pretty soon, we were all playing the chords to "Ain't She Sweet" while Bill Tapia took the solo. I soon realized that I was jamming with Bill Tapia.

UF handled everything very well, allowing Tapia the spotlight, while making sure everyone walked away with a few basic chords.

Hey, I got to jam with Bill Tapia. It just doesn't get much better than that.

Pictures of the Riverside Ukulele Liberation Front Maiden Voyage

Well, links to pictures, any way. Try this link. Sue left before we took the group photo.

More Reflections on Patti Smith's "The Jackson Song"

Vivage had mentioned that she first heard this song when she was prego with Blowhard Canary. That's when I heard it too, while I lived in their house with them. Billy C had a radio show on a local college station. I rarely listened to it on my car radio because the reception was iffy. But I did one time while driving around UCR shortly after the child prodigy's birth and just caught the end of this show, where Billy dedicated this song to his new infink son.

I think now that it might need a female voice singing the lead (Princess?) with the boys' lush harmony wafting in the background. There's a line about seeing a hero's wing and thinking of daddy followed by a line about a nestled wing and thinking of mommy that just sounds better coming from a female.

I supposed you could juggle that part around somehow, if you had to. Plus, there are plenty of songs out there written and sung by men where the persona is a woman.

Now to Change the Subject

How do you like my Google upgraded blog?

UF recently advised me not to be so dependent on tabs and songbooks, but to just listen to my heart and let the chords of new songs find their way there or some complicated sappy metaphysical crap like that.

But, hey, I think it works. I've got two new tunes that I am figuring out based on his advice.

Do had suggested a song, "Tiki Torches at Twilight" by David Lindley and, when I tried to get it on Chordie.com, I couldn't find it. So I just bought it on I tunes (both the David Lindley version and the Petty Booka version) and just listened. Then, I began to sing along and figure where it was in my vocal range and, relative to that, I think I got most of the chords figured out.

Then, I got a hankerin' to learn a Patti Smith tune, "The Jackson Song." But Chordie was also pretty chintzy with Patti Smith tunes. I found this odd, because awhile back I'm sure I found a load of Patti Smith tunes on some guitar tab site and now I found chordie was packing light, as was every other tab site I could find. Dunno. Funny thing: One of the Patti Smith tunes was actually the Patti Smyth tune "Good-bye to You." I thought the Chordie guys were hipper than that.

Anyway, I did the same thing with that song--more easily, because I am more familiar with Patti Smith's work and know kind of where her vocal range is and what chord progressions she uses a lot. So I am a little pleased with myself tonight.

Anyway, I want to learn "Tiki Torches." I think "The Jackson Song" would be a good Canary song with Billy C on the lead because he's a father and with Blowhard and me coming in with some fine harmonies (and Princess as well?).

Those of you who are thinking what the F**K! Patti Smith? Harmonies? Listen to this song. It's on the Dream of Life album.

Uke of the Month Club

When UF brought in Leonard's welcome-back ukulele into my classroom, he gave it to me to test it out. We found that we had both had the same initial impulse: forget Leonard, let's keep it. Each of us wanted to keep it for ourselves, of course-we wouldn't have shared ownership. I think we both tend to covet ukes we don't have.

Not that it was such a special uke. It was just a low-end Lanikai that cost about $60. It was nothing special in and of itself.

It was special to Leonard, and to us, because of the thought behind it.

My first uke, a soprano Estrella, is not exactly a Stradivaius. But I still get a great deal of pleasure playing it-n part,because it was a gift and, in part, because it was my first.

Actually, I guess it was my second. The first was that cardboard cheapo I bought at Music Mike's to play in that production of Godspell ten or so years ago. Being ignorant, I left it in the car in the summer heat and-presto!-I took it out at one rehearsal, strummed it once, and the neck came off. I replaced it with a plastic toy guitar and only pretended to play.

Thus, my musical destiny was postponed for a decade.

Since getting my Estrella, I have accumulated 10 ukes. A few are really cheap ones that I keep in my classroom for when a student comes up and asks to play my ukulele. I know of too many guitarist friends who bring their best instruments to school, only to have some student who didn't ask and didn't respect the intstrument cause some damage. Most students regard the uke as a toy and initially treat it pretty casually. I insist that they treat my uke gently. But, since I don't have eyes in the back of my head, they use the ukes I got somewhere for cheap. If they want, I teach them a few chords.

I don't have any really expensive ukes. My best right now are my Oscar Schmidt and my two Belfiore's. I am trying to be strong and save my money for a really nice one one day. But that six-string Lanakai cut-away tenor calls my name, like the sirens to Ulysses. And, while, it won't cause me to crash against the rocks and drown, it will cost me some serious cabbage.

The other realization I had while strumming Leonard's uke to be was that, if I could get a new ukulele every month, I would practice 10 times more. I like the feel and sound of a new uke. I like how it sounds different from my others. I like the brilliant tone in my Belfiores. I like the hushed tone of Oscar. I like the flimsy sound of my cheap Mahalo.

Just a uke a month, that's all I ask.

Ukulele Healing Ritual

A colleague from school recently had his colon checked out for cancer. I guess he had no symptoms and is not of the age where doctors recommend you have this procedure, but they found a tumor, 1/16th of an inch, and removed it. Then, just before spring break, he had a follow-up procedure which kept him out six weeks.

He tells me that, if he had waited five years, when he would have been of the age that the exploratory procedure is commonly done, he would have been dead. Colon cancer is the number two killing cancer.

So, when we heard that he was coming back to school, UF and I headed up a welcome back gift drive in our department and bought him a ukulele, case, and song book. He is an accomplished guitarist and, whenever he comes to my classroom, he picks up one of my ukes and starts playing around on it. So, I figured he'd probably like it.

He is one of the reasons I keep two ukes at school. Often, whenever anyone walks into my classroom and finds me jamming, they ask if they can try it out. So, I give them the uke I am playing and grab the other uke to continue my jam. This teacher is one of the best offenders. He has actually shared some guitar stuff that translates to uke.

UF presented it to him yesterday (I was out). When I went to his classroom today, strumming my Oscar Schmidt, I found him walking around the classroom, cradling his new uke, jamming away while his students worked. He was truly touched by the gift.

He is not normally an emotional kind of guy, but he said that he was truly choked up when UF delivered his new uke.

Hey, another convert to the movement.

Uke Wars III; A Trip to Ukeland

As far as the Uke Wars go, I would like to repeat what Sean Connery said to Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when Indiana Jones was reaching for the Holy Grail, which had just caused the early demise of the hot Nazi babe who had seduced both father and son in the movies. Just as both Indiana and the Grail were about to get swallowed up by a chasm in the Earth, his Dad said simply "Indiana, let it go."

So that's my advice to Uke Forever and others who care about this: Let it go. Most of you will probably never meet in person. So, really, who cares if you agree or disagree? They're just strings, resonator ukes, and smiley-face emoticons. Don't take the fun out of it.

Friday, took a fine trip with UF to Carlsbad and environs to check out some uke stores: Giacoletti's, Buffalo Brothers, and this Hawaiian shop that I forget the name of. At the last shop, I got to play a Tahitian Ukulele, which was fine. I don't know anything about Tahitian ukuleles, nor do I know where this Tahitian ukulele ranked in quality. It sounded cool, but was not much for projection.

Played around with some other ukes at Buff Bros, which has mainly higher end ukes and collectables. Played a banjo uke, which sounded fine, but was quite heavy. Played a couple of resonator ukes, also heavy. They sounded fine too.

I guess I wanted to prove for myself whether reso-ukes were better or worse than other ukes I have played. But the fact is, to paraphrase Ecclesiastes, to every uke, there is a season. I think the Reso-ukes, the banjo ukes, the Flukes, etc, all have a time where their sound is appropriate. Right now, my favorites are my Oscar Schmidt and my two Belfiorre's. I realize that many others will prefer the Jenny or the Lanakai. There are times when I get real joy from plunking on the cardboard uke I got for a penny at Ukeworld.

As my English teacher, William Bell III used to say, "De ukebus non disputandum est." Concerning ukes, there is no argument. If the Latin is wrong, blame me, not Mr. Bell.

At Giacolletti's, I played around on a few ukes, mostly the six-string Lanakai. I like the sound. UF said implied that a six-string uke is not a real uke. I say talk to Mr. Bell.

I heeded Howlin' Hobbit's advice and decided not to buy another uke until I could afford a really good one. I like the ones I have for now. So I'll wait.

I did buy a tenor case for my Belfiorre Blonde.

UF and I went to a nearby brew pub and had pizza and beer. Once I had a buzz going, I decided to go back to Giacolleti's and get another Jumpin' Jim uke songbook. It looks good, but I'm not sure it's wise to buy anything when your drunk.

Uke Wars II: My Dream for a Peaceful Future

My friend Ukeforever posted a link to my brief commentary on the Uke Wars on the Fleamarket Music BB. I feel bad because I associated Jim Beloff and his Flukes an Fleas with sweetness and light. I hate for this controversy to spill over to that website, although I understand that there have been a few other unpleasantries oozing onto that board.

When I go to ukulele festivals in the area, I am impressed with the overall positive energy that flows freely from one uke collector to another. Everyone there, be they Christian, Jew, Buddhist, or Agnophobic, is ready to put aside their differences for the greater cosmic good of developing one another's ukulelic skills. It is a truly beautiful experience. Even at one uke fest where I thought things weren't so well-run, this positivity still reigned.

But now, there is a disturbance in the Uke Force. Fortunately for them and us, neither Ukeforever nor Uke Jackson are likely to meet. They live on opposite Coasts.

But I have a dream, kind of like the one shared by Haley Mills and her sister, Hailey Mills, in that timeless film "The Parent Trap." I see us all at an international ukulele festival-perhaps in Iceland. Hoards of ukulelists strumming the tune "Little Brown Jug," voices lifted in harmony. At the songs end, individuals in the crowd exchange pleasantries. Zoom in on a gentleman with a ponytail and resonator ukulele. Standing next to him is another gentleman with a pineapple Jenny. They exchange compliments, discover that they both use Nylgut strings, and share techniques for bending notes. They both call themselves "Uke." A friendship ensues that will last a lifetime. One will become godfather to the other's first-born son. The other will donate half of his pancreas for the other's emergency transplant.

It could happen.

Uke Wars

I think it was Plato who admonished us to never discuss religion, politics, or ukuleles at a party. My friend Uke Forever and Uke Jackson, whom I don't know personally, are a case in point. Over the last 8 months, since I first introduced Uke Forever to the pleasures of Uke, There has been a slowly bubbling fued that recently came to another head, just when we all thought they had made peace and had become friends. This all took place at 4th Peg, a ukulele website.

Their first row came during a discussion about the Iraqui War. Understandable. The argument got a little hot and, well, I don't want to take sides because I would like to keep peace in the ukulele community.

Uke Forever remedied the situation by writing a song called "Uke Jackson hates Me," which got everybody laughing, even Uke Jackson. Pax Ukulelea ensued.

Then they got into a difference of opinion concerning, first, note-bending on the ukulele. Then, their argument spilled over into a Nylgut discussion. Ironically, they both are Nylgut fans. Some name-calling, a few winky-faced smiley icons, and soon the felt picks were flying.

Some day, I hope to meet Uke Jackson. Some day, I hope to make Uke Forever learn that winky-faced smiley icons shouldn't be used carelessly.

Ukulele Nuff in Concert, part 2; My Latest Uke; A Very Merry Un-Birthday

So, I chickened out halfway with my performance today. But, given the tone of the assembly, I think I made the right choice. It might have been too much, had I gone with plan A. Instead of the Rainbow/Neverland medley, I performed U2's "Wild Honey," which I have been working on for awhile. I just couldn't get the other tune to the point where I felt comfortable performing it. I say that I chickened halfway because I DID play a new tune in public at least.

The parents of the young man who was killed in the hit-and-run were there to receive a special award, their son's class ring and graduation picture, which the young man had ordered before he was killed. This was followed by a moment of silence. I felt that this was tribute enough from the hearts of his friends and classmates. "Wild Honey" is a bouncy tune and was a good choice to set a fun tone for the assembly. I think that I have found a good rhythm and am getting to where I am owning it more in performance.

But I still am working on that Rainbow/Neverland thing.

I just bought a Belfiore Tenor ukulele from my friend Ukeforever, who says he now regards himself a soprano guy exclusively now. It is a beautiful blond instrument. I have strung it with a low G Nylgut and really like it. Belfiore is a uke made in Temecula, CA by this guy who also makes guitars. They are light and have a bold bell-like tone. I have another, soprano, Belfiore that I got two years ago at Giacolletti's in Carlsbad, where they are sold exclusively. This guy is getting better. My soprano is nice, but the action is a little high. This new one has a lower action and is easier to play. What also appeals to me is that it is unique (I think he only makes a couple in each style and then tries something new) and made in the US.

My birthday last Sunday. A pleasant, understated evening at Mother's. In attendance were Bro Bill, Sis-In-Law Vivage, and their two delightful offspring, L and Z. Got a brief case to carry my uke tunes in and a new multi-functional pocket tool thing to replace the one I gave Cuz-in-law Jim to hold for me during my Day in Court awhile back. As I handed it to him, I thought to myself: this is the kind of thing that, once you put it in someone else's possession, you will never see again, because you will forget to get it back until after you and the person to whom you have given it have parted ways and which the both of you will only remember only after arriving at the family get-together where you next see one another. Also, I got two Bright Eyes CD's. I like them so far. One song in particular, "The Arc of Time," is catchy and, I think, ukeable.

Ukulele Nuff in Concert

I'm working on this melding of Over the Rainbow and Never Neverland (from the Mary Martin version of Peter Pan) that I put together. If I were a real musician, I guess I would say that I arranged it. But Meld is a better word. I just took the Over the Rainbow Iz version from 4th peg, cut out the Wonderful World interlude (because I think that song is kinda sappy), pasted in Never Neverland from the Guitar Guy's website, transposed the whole mess in my key. I think it will work.

My plan was to perform it at an assembly at the high school where I teach, but I'm not sure that it will be polished enough by the time that day hits. So, I will use U2's Wild Honey as a back-up. I have that one down pretty well. The Rainbow/Neverland medly I will save until a later assembly.

Just messing around with both of these songs has taught me what wonderful songs they are. Lyrically, few other writers can touch them. Both capture that desire for someplace better. The yearning that a farmgirl form Kansas or a child confined to a London apartment would have to just make a break for it. Wonderful World, by comparison, is pretty thin. It's thematically similar to It's a Small World.

Hey, I'm gonna go practice now.

RivDumDave Speaks; I Reply

Dave, the problem was that you couldn't even snap your fingers. And everyone knows that Mozart was overrated. Now Salieri, there was a genius.

Is this a flame or a spam? I can never tell the difference.

Jammin' with the Boyz and Grrlz

So, last night, I took my ukulele to the house of my friend's bro-in-law to jam. My first jam with an almost actual band. I think they're in the stage of becoming a band. The personnel seem to be in a moderate state of flux. The line-up includes my friends Donita and Jim-she on dumbek and vocals, he on massive keyboards and vocals. The line-up is rounded out by Ken on guitar, Geometry John on bass, banjo and, I think, occasionally guitar (he hasn't played it, but he can), and Amber, also a vocalist. Brothers Ken and Jim are both fine musicians, and I don't just say that because I hope to be invited back. In fact, all five of them are geniuses at what they do, whether they invite me back or not.

There is also a drummer, who, at age 15, is young enough to be a grandson to any one of us. He is an excellent drummer. They say one of the best in this town we call Riverside.

Unfortunately, he didn't attend this rehearsal. It may or may not have been past his bedtime. He may or may not get mad enough about that last comment to never allow me to jam with the band again. Just in case, he is also a genius. A child prodigy.

I don't know whether or not the champagne would have flowed as freely had he been there.

There in muted spirit was Dave, on miscellaneous percussion, who had recently parted ways with the band due to creative differences: they were talented, he wasn't.

I will leave most of the sordid tale to the blogs of others, as I did not know Dave well. I did witness two of his performances with the band and was not as impressed with his genius as I was with the collective genius of the others in the band.

He had many percussion toys, all attached to a percussion toy-holding rack, like Sheila E has. He would hit the various toys, yet somehow never blend with the rest of the band. It was like he was in a little room with invisible walls, where he could not hear the band and, therefore, could not stay with their tempo. And yet, he could see them, and would often banter with them. Hell, he would interrupt their charming banter with less-than-charming (or relevant) comments. He was one of those people who, just as you yourself are about to come to the punchline of a truly funny joke that everyone is really focussed on, interrupts to ask you where you bought your pants.

Anyway, he's out.

The reason I was there is because I am a fledgling ukulele player and have played during the band's breaks on what they call Casual Sundays at local bar. I would play, and the crowd would go wild.

OK. It wasn't exactly a crowd and they didn't exactly go wild. But they didn't boo. And, on my second visit, they actually stopped and listened. I was so disturbed by this that I forgot what song I was playing.

So my friend Donita has asked me several times to join them for their Friday Night rehearsals. I have been a little shy about joining them, but figured I'd better show up so they would know that it wasn't personal.

I played with them for about two hours, I guess. When playing the songs on their list, I would just play the chords I knew and pretend to play the chords I didn't. Fortunately, I wasn't amped.

When I played the tunes that I knew, I sat next to the microphones. I had a great time. I have never actually played in a band before. But there I was, singing and strumming.

We started off by goofing on "Innagadadavida." Then we moved on to "Daydream," Times like These," and "Wild Honey."

I felt like a rock star.