Sunday, June 24, 2007
A warm night in Ukuleletown. Out in the back yard hot breezes are blowing through the leaves of the cherry tree. The cherries aren’t quite ripe yet, but they will be in a week or two. The cherry tree bears fruit every two years. Every two years. You have to take the long view if you want cherry pie from my back yard.
So in the meantime make some music. Pick up your (cheap, custom, vintage, new) ukulele and make some music. It’s dark and down the street a Portuguese couple is fighting or making love, dogs bark tiredly and the grasses rustle with small creatures. It’s all music. Make your own.
That's why you have a ukulele in your hand: to make music with. Not to make money, not to get famous, not to improve your social life...but to make music. All those things are nice if they happen...but right now you can make music. You can always make music.
The next afternoon the sun is shining through the livingroom windows. Robert Wheeler shows up with beer and ukuleles. Davis Sweet shows up with a hat and two ukuleles. We’re tradin’ songs and makin’ music. In Ukuleletown, this is what happens in the afternoon when it’s quiet and the Portuguese lovers are sleeping, the dogs are sleeping and small creatures are burrowed deep in the warm earth.