Moar uke

So there’s lots of art in this blog, right. Why did I call it she plays ukulele?

It’s because–regardless of what I have done in my life, from living in other countries to drawing a lot to having kids to working various interesting jobs–when I meet new people (which happens often because of the lots of different things I like to do), my introduction almost inevitably includes the phrase “She plays the ukulele”. (Except for one friend, who always introduces me with the phrase “She got shouted at on the phone by Phil Spector!” Which is true, but another post.)

This info is apropos of the fact that I realised how little uke content is actually in my blog. So that needs fixing. Here’s me and Sailbad the Sinner busting out Elvis’s ode to tinned pineapple, “Beach Boy Blues”, at the Hillbilly Hoot last week. We are happier than we look, although it was a really cold night and I admit we do look downright grim.

Maybe we were sad that it’s not beach weather. Anyway, it’s always uke weather.

hillbilly hoot ukes

Cold night at the Hillbilly Hoot

Obligatory uke geek comment: I am not the uke collector that the man to my right is/was but I have a handful of em. This travel Kala gets the most outings. I almost always pack it along to the Hoot, even if I don’t think I’m going to play. It fits in well especially when the stage gets crowded. At which point people always go “That thing is so LOUD”. (Piccie by Ian Fisk)