Eastertide 2018

From the Gospel of Luke:

On the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking spices that they had prepared.

They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them.

The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”

Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest.

Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.

But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

The women did the heavy lifting sharing the news, but it makes me laugh that poor Peter went to look at the empty tomb, was amazed…and then went home. For a nap?!

Wishing you a joyous Easter.

My Winding Road to a Ukulele

I come from a musical family. My immediate family members have all been classically trained professional musicians. When I was a kid I took piano lessons for seven years from my dad, a traumatic experience for both of us! Once I was in junior high school I no longer had time or inclination to continue.

Jump to high school, and I took a major interest in playing harmonica. Huey Lewis and the News was my favorite band at the time, and Huey was a maestro on the harp. In retrospect it was a fairly anachronistic instrument for the 1980s, but I thought it was cool. I received a diatonic Hohner Special 20 in the key of C one Christmas, along with a book teaching how to play blues harmonica. Learning from a book versus learning from a person is a very different proposition, and I struggled with the concept of bending notes. In the days before the internet, there wasn’t a place to hear the concepts I was learning.

Eventually I met Jeff, a guy who loved to play, and he taught me a few things, including how to bend those notes! The next harmonica I got was in the key of D, and that was my favorite. Bending notes was easier, and I had broken reeds to prove it. The sound was a little more bluesy, and I could play along with a few more songs. One of my favorites was Bad Is Bad  by Huey Lewis and the News. I just struggled with parts of the harmonica solo because a diatonic harp doesn’t have all the half steps and notes that a chromatic does. I used to play along to The Heart of Rock and Roll and Whole Lotta Lovin’, which were fun but more challenging Huey songs, and the solo on the latter was something I could never get close to nailing. While I performed in a harmonica duo for a high school talent show, there weren’t a lot of places to play other than my bedroom so my growth stagnated. I still play today at about the same level as 30 years ago.

Eventually, I started a radio career, and the joke in the family became that they played instruments and I played CDs…or badminton rackets masquerading as electric guitars. I was also pretty good at lip synch contests as a guitarist and impressed everyone stuck in traffic with my dashboard drumming. Ha!

In the mid-1990s, I was given a Hawaiian steel guitar and a classical guitar that had belonged to my great-grandfather during his days as an entertainer. I’ve never learned how to play the steel, but did make an attempt at playing the classical guitar. Tom, someone I knew while living on the Oregon Coast, helped me restring the instrument and learn some chords but then left town before I could learn much more. This guitar was difficult to play, and I went years without doing anything further. Later I took it to a guitar shop in Eugene, Oregon hoping they could repair the neck, which was bent. That was part of what made it so hard to play. Their advice to me was to hang the guitar from the wall as an heirloom. The neck was bent beyond repair. The damage was likely caused from being tightly strung for years in a storage room at my grandparents’ house, where it was hot and humid in the summer and cold in the winter.

That seemed to bring to an end any real thoughts of picking up an instrument and learning it, though thanks to a few things that stuck from my piano days I could noodle around on keyboards — including playing the iconic piano opening to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’, which was an exercise in questionable technique.

Fast forward to three weeks ago. Garrett, a friend from work, whose father runs a ukulele festival in Bremerton, Washington, brought in an extra ukulele he owned. The day before I expressed interest in buying one when he mentioned his dad had about 70 in his house. But Garrett just gave it to me and even threw in a gig bag and a tuner. Now I’m a little giddy about owning a Mitchell MU-70 concert ukulele.

While I’ve decided to take formal lessons to get my technique right from the start, they don’t begin until May. So, I’ve been learning a little from online tutorials. I’ve got eight chords down, though playing all of them cleanly is as difficult as hitting single notes with the harmonica. Eventually, it comes with a lot of practice, but right now it’s far from flawless. Playing for about 30 minutes or so every night has helped toughen up my fingers quickly, and I’ve been able to strum to a few songs: Three Little Birds  by Bob Marley, I’m Yours  by Jason Mraz, Don’t Worry Be Happy  by Bobby McFerrin and Neil Diamond’s Song Sung Blue.

I’m struck by the versatility of the ukulele, and it’s a lot of fun to play. Strumming is simple, but as I get more advanced on the instrument I should be able to finger pick. I also hope to learn different strumming styles, which will help when attempting Hawaiian music. When I was a kid we played ukulele for a week or so in a grade school music class, but my interest in the uke has been a result of many visits to Hawaii, so I have to learn some of those happy songs.

So far my daughter likes when I play. One night she walked up to me, hugged my leg, and said, “I like the music you make, Daddy.” I think my wife is somewhat impressed, at least when I hit the correct notes! She’s a former professional opera singer (this is a theme, yes?) who has given me some impromptu music theory lessons. I might have actually learned something.

It’s been a winding road to the ukulele. I’ve really enjoyed playing thus far and look forward to becoming more proficient. Those formal lessons will help. In the meantime, the happy strumming continues…

Rocket Girl

Earlier this year I was working in the kitchen and my toddler daughter, Aria, was sitting on the living room couch when suddenly this conversation broke out:

Her: Daddy, I want to go to space.
Me: Umm. Okay. You might be able to someday.
Her: I want to go now.
Me: Mmm. That’s not really possible tonight.
Her: Why?
Me: Well, we don’t have the right equipment.
Her: Why?
Me: We need spacesuits and rockets, and we don’t really live in a place where launching rockets happens. It’s kind of dangerous.
Her: Why?
Me: Because the rockets have lots of fuel in them that can explode. But, someday, you can go into space if it’s something you really want to do. I’ll come watch.
Her: But, I want you to come with me.
Me: Well, honey, that’s probably not going to work.
Her: Why?
Me: Because by the time you’re old enough to go into space I’ll be a little too old for the trip. But I know you can go someday, and I will come watch you.
(pause)
Her: Can I watch Doc (McStuffins)?

I shared this conversation with my sister, Heather, and while we had a good laugh, she ran with it as a birthday gift theme. This actually happened a few days ago on Aria’s fourth birthday:

I was a bit envious. Aria said that maybe Auntie Heather could get me a suit. I told her that I would need to be a real astronaut to get a grown-up version. (For the record Auntie Heather said, nope, I don’t!)

I have no idea where this thought of going into space came from. Maybe she saw something on a Daniel Tiger or Doc McStuffins episode. Maybe she talked about it in preschool. Perhaps she gave thought to those glowing stars stuck on her bedroom ceiling. Regardless the reason, as her father, I want her to know that she can do anything she puts her mind to. If the day comes that she heads to Mars, the moon or a space station, I will be there to watch her liftoff. I’ll wish I could be on the ship with her, but maybe she will give me a mission patch when she returns. You go, Rocket Girl. Dream big.