Writing Prompt: The Ukulele

 Prompt: Describe a person, place or thing.

The Ukulele 

When my grandfather Papa died years ago, the family went to his Florida condo to look through his belongings and give the grandchildren a chance to select a few items to take home with them. I was immediately drawn to an old, wooden ukulele tucked away on the top shelf of his closet off the family TV room. I didn’t know how to play a string instrument (still don’t), yet I wanted this ukulele so badly. Fortunately for me, no one else paid attention to it, so this prize was mine to keep.

I don’t know the story behind the ukulele, where it came from, and whether or not my grandfather ever played it. I never saw him with it when I visited him, though he did play once the banjo he had from his days in the 1920s performing with Benny Goodman and his orchestra in Chicago. Although my grandfather would go on to become a lawyer and stop performing, he loved music, and instilled that love in my father, who was a talented piano player and our house was filled with jazz music played on the stereo. 

Back to the ukulele, once I spirited it out of Florida to it’s new home in Columbus, it took up residence in a place of prominence on a shelf in one of the tall bookcases in our den. It rests majestically in front of a line of assorted books including “Bartlett’s Book of Quotations,” “Horse Soldiers,” “The Invisible Man” and “The Biggest Book of Hockey Trivia.” When I’m sitting in my recliner sipping my morning coffee, I’ll often gaze upon the ukulele and smile at memories of my grandfather, and wonder if this ukulele ever got played in front of an audience.

I did bring it out once—only once—when I had my first (and sadly last) dinner party here in my home in December of 2001. It was right before I fell apart under the grips of bipolar illness, and I had invited 6 girlfriends to my place for a roasted duck dinner. We sat around the long dinner table and after we had finished the meal, I stood up, walked over to the bookshelf and retrieved the ukulele. My friends looked at me bemusedly, wondering if I was going to play it, or if I had something else in mind. 

I returned to the table and gave the following instructions: We will pass the ukulele around the table, and when it comes to you, hold it in your hands and tell the group your worst time and best time of the year. I’m not entirely sure what the point of this exercise was, or whether or not the ukulele had magical powers to stir up excited discussion. But I do know here some 22 years later my girlfriends still talk about this dinner party and my ukulele. 

There are quite a few whimsical things tucked away in corners and shelves in this old house of ours. But Papa’s ukulele is by far one of my favorite pieces. I’m tempted to pick it up and try to play it. Maybe this old dog can learn a new trick? Guess I won’t know unless I try. So here goes!