Working with teachers is like working with family, except you hate each other less. Over the years I've found myself largely adopted by a fantastic team, and while I've had no shortage of magical experiences working with some truly amazing individuals, this one may strike a chord with such a musical community.
Pun intended, not sorry.
Our team leader is moving, downsizing to a smaller house in the wake of a long-overdue separation, and so she's looking to lighten her burden of worldly possessions. Knowing me to be something of a ukulelist (in addition to bassist, harmonicist, GameBoyist, and bucketeer), one day out of the blue she asks me, "have you ever played a baritone ukulele?"
This morning, she arrived at work and presented me with a gift.
"When I was 10 or 11," she told me, "I took ukulele lessons for a few years. Eventually I saved up enough money to buy my own."
"It cost me $32. That was in 1970."
I had no words but only cried a little, I swear.
Sentimental instrument from a loved one? Check.
Vintage instrument predating my own birth by nearly 20 years? Check.
Sort of instrument I've wanted for years? Check.
Could this get any more magical? The answer is, "Actually hell yes it could."
She also gave me this-
This is a handwritten songbook authored by her music teacher. It contains roughly a bazillion pages (by my early morning estimation), most of which also show chord fingerings.
I am unworthy.
The instrument itself sounds gorgeous, even though it definitely needs some new strings. The friction tuners are a little loose, but I'm not sure if it makes more sense to preserve the instrument's history or bring it into the modern world with some machine tuners. What do you guys think?
In any case, this is now the oldest instrument in my possession, and I'm absolutely overflowing with the warms and the fuzzies of it all.
Not sure what else to say, so here's one more photo.
Thank you for listening. I'm gonna go show my team how much I love them by annoying the crap out of them for the rest of the day.
--^@
Pun intended, not sorry.
Our team leader is moving, downsizing to a smaller house in the wake of a long-overdue separation, and so she's looking to lighten her burden of worldly possessions. Knowing me to be something of a ukulelist (in addition to bassist, harmonicist, GameBoyist, and bucketeer), one day out of the blue she asks me, "have you ever played a baritone ukulele?"
This morning, she arrived at work and presented me with a gift.
"When I was 10 or 11," she told me, "I took ukulele lessons for a few years. Eventually I saved up enough money to buy my own."
"It cost me $32. That was in 1970."
I had no words but only cried a little, I swear.
Sentimental instrument from a loved one? Check.
Vintage instrument predating my own birth by nearly 20 years? Check.
Sort of instrument I've wanted for years? Check.
Could this get any more magical? The answer is, "Actually hell yes it could."
She also gave me this-
This is a handwritten songbook authored by her music teacher. It contains roughly a bazillion pages (by my early morning estimation), most of which also show chord fingerings.
I am unworthy.
The instrument itself sounds gorgeous, even though it definitely needs some new strings. The friction tuners are a little loose, but I'm not sure if it makes more sense to preserve the instrument's history or bring it into the modern world with some machine tuners. What do you guys think?
In any case, this is now the oldest instrument in my possession, and I'm absolutely overflowing with the warms and the fuzzies of it all.
Not sure what else to say, so here's one more photo.
Thank you for listening. I'm gonna go show my team how much I love them by annoying the crap out of them for the rest of the day.
--^@
