The ukulele has become a bit of a new obsession for me after spotting my grandfather's old uke at my aunt's house in California. I plunked around on it awkwardly while my brother told me how my grandfather used to play "My dog has fleas." For whatever reason I never heard Grandpa play, but it still tickles me that he had the ukulele. I took a picture of it:
Last Saturday I was browsing the incredible Dusty Strings in Fremont, which just happens to have an entire wall of beautiful ukuleles. I had always imagined that ukes were cheap, almost toy-like instruments. Ha. My error. My dreams were dashed a bit when I realized that I did not have the kind of cash to fork over for one of those beautiful little instruments. I kind of fell in love with an old Banjo Uke they had hanging on the wall, and I decided that this would be my new thing just as soon as I found the money.
After a few days of obsessing, let's just say that a reasonable bid was placed and a PayPal account was tapped, and on Saturday the mailman dropped a lovely brown paper package on my doorstep with a thunk. And the love affair has begun. There are lessons in my future, but in 24 hours I've taught myself how to tune the bugger and play a handful of useful chords. She's loud and boisterous and I adore her.
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2 comments:
Lovely.
Music self played is happiness self made.
Yay Dusty Strings!
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