Ukulele Magic

Hello Folks,

A comment written on yesterday's blog has prompted me to write something I have meaning to write for a long time - and that is that playing the Ukulele in Santa Cruz has been one of the most wonderful things I have ever done.

For those of you who don't know, it was about three years ago that Rick McKee, aka Ukulele Dick invited me to perform one of my Altared Christmas songs for the Ukulele Club of Santa Cruz. I met Rick for 40 years ago (!) when he gave me some of my first guitar lessons. He and his friends were living in one of the apartments my mom owned back then. (More about those times later.)

So Rick, Katie, Sandor and Eric (who I had never met before) and I rehearsed a few times in preparation for this Christmas Party I had been hearing about. I remember clearly the enthusiastic reponse we got when we were done. I remember selling more CDs at one time than I had ever sold before, and more importantly, I remember feeling like I had just made 200 best friends.

That feeling was what brought me back again and again. I was invited to play in the house band, per McKee's recomendation, as a soloist (I didn't know any chords) and I found that easy and fun. Then, as I learned to transpose my guitar chords, I found new joy in playing this little instrument in its full capacity.

One day while visiting Rick at his shop, he informed me that he had a Ukulele that a friend of his wanted to sell. As luck would have it, the owner stopped by and Barry Perlman and I have since become good friends. At the time, I was planning a trip to Ohio to take a vocal workshop from John Cowan, a bluegrass singer I had discovered while at Merlefest. I was not used to singing in front of people, and I wasn't sure about going off to the other side of the country to take a class.

I mentioned to Barry what I was planning, not thinking he would even know who John was when he said, "Oh, John is a wonderful singer. He is a client of ours (Renaissance Guitar Company) and a good friend. You should definitely go!"

I bought the Ukulele, went on my trip, took the workshop, sang, and when I returned, I returned a different person. It was a subtle change, but a change nonetheless. John's simple statement that "singing is a gift to be shared" stayed with me. It gave me permission...

The welcoming and appreciative audience at the Ukulele Club also gave me permission. They offered me a place where I could hone my music skills in a safe environment; away from competition, judgment, and snobbiness.

I have since played in the house band (the band that plays during dinner and before the main act) several times, and played a full set of "An Altared Christmas" last year opening for Ian McKellan. It looks like I am going to do it again this year as well.

Every Saturday morning at 10am another group meets on the Beach near the Crow's Nest; chatting, sipping their coffees and starting off the weekend with two hours of ukulele music.

What I find magical about these meetings is that though the songs may not start smoothly, or even start at all - everyone has a wonderful time. It makes me think again about why I play music in the first place.

Sure, I have always aspired to play with the best musicians possible, and I have. I have played most of the stages in this town and many in San Fransisco, Eugene and Portland. I love plugging in my electric guitar, jamming on soul music, funk grooves, and recording CDs. But now I have added one more qualification to my music, and that is that it must be fun, and must be with a good spirit and with wonderful people. People that I would like to see as often as possible, and people that I would call my friends - my best friends.

And finally, though I often find myself teaching some of these players a trick or two, (I taught my first workshop the other day at Burning Uke) I want you all to know that it is I who have also been learning: learning about community, friendship, and the magic of the ukulele.

Thank you.

Been Awhile Since I've Written

Gee folks,
It's been so long since I have written anything here - I had to reset my password 'cause I forgot it and seriously, my dog ate part of my password "cheat sheet" along with all my guitar straps that were made of leather (which is all of them).

I have been working on so many things lately, that I decided to write about them here instead of in an email. Really, I want your feedback on my emails - are they too long, too short? Do you like reading, or are you too busy. Anyway, I am writing here now.

I just got back from "Burning Uke" - a weekend of camping, partying and playing the ukulele. What fun, really. Nothing wild like Burning Man, although I did lead a pagan-like ritual where we danced, chanted, and "burned" the Uke. Normally, when there isn't a fire danger, the giant Ukulele actually gets burned, but this time we couldn't. Instead, I hear it will go on a mini tour to be displayed here and there.


Meanwhile, I have been working with Celina Gutierrez on her upcoming CD, acting as producer and studio musician. Our hope is to have it out by the Holidays. So far, the music is sweet and sounding real nice.

Speaking of CDs - Bob Burnett has just released his CD, "When You Hear Music" and it's available at CD Baby. I am on a few tracks playing percussion, and my first ever credit for playing "Glockenspiel"!

And speaking of the Holidays - I am putting the 2nd annual "Altared Christmas - LIVE" show, this time to be performed at the Cayuga Vault in Santa Cruz, CA. There won't be many seats available, so order tickets NOW, seriously! (Official email to come soon.)

My signs of Peace website is coming along, thanks to the many peace signs you have been sending me. Check it out at www.signsofpeace.com. I am always adding new ones as I get them.

Finally, I just got my taxes done for last year. Late. Awful. I felt like Gollum, twisting and writhing with every turn, looking for old receipts, hissing at the thought of having to look up a number. I am trying, really, to get organized. There is just something about it that I am resisting. Perhaps it is the thought of how it binds me to have to write down mileage every time I get in the car. Oh well, I guess I must adjust.