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“Ukuleles are like your children. The first one, you obsess and protect. By the fourth one, you let them eat high-fructose corn syrup and run with power tools.” - Someone on the internet.
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Rose. Beautiful spirit. She taught me chords on Anne’s ukulele, that’s one of the greatest things a woman cold teach a man. How else would man know, how to sing corny songs about peanut butter or little birds without having to pay hundreds of dollars for a guitar?
Rose. She definitely helped a lot in making my trip to Victoria, BC beautiful. In my life, I have never met a Rose that was a mediocre person. Not to say that anybody is mediocre, I’m just saying that if there are mediocre people in the world — their names are not Rose.
Speaking on flowers, I’ve met some sucky people with flower names. Such as Aunt Petunia from Harry Potter. I know I never met her but all those hours I spent with the book sometimes blend into reality. Jasmine… wait, is Jasmine a flower? I’ve had 3 childhood crushes on Jasmines and one of them was an asshole, but that kinda turned me on tho. All in all, I’m not too keen on folks named after flowers, except for Roses.
Anyway, I still haven’t bought my own ukulele yet but whenever I do, the first chords that I play will be the ones that Rose taught me. So, I’m pretty sure that I will cherish my first ukulele like my first child. Hopefully, it will be the only child because I don’t know if I can keep track of more than one kid.
Thanks Rose.
See you whenever I end up seeing you.
