Session #2 - February 16, 2003

When some of my traditionalist ukulele associates became aware that a project titled "Rock That Uke" was in progress, some shuddered.

When given the  opportunity to experience, live, one of the musical aggravations that was to become a part of "Rock That Uke", the traditionalists exhibited a reaction that could best be described by using the old traditional saying, "....like dropping a fox in a hen house....".

Following the premier performance of "Rock That Uke" at Ukulele Hall of Fame Museum's Uke Expo '02, after the civilians had left the room, a number of those who had, for the first time, viewed their contributions to Bill Robertson & Sean Anderson's project, and the contributor's supporters, gathered together and chatted.  Punk Chat.  Perhaps.

One of the anointed suggested we sing and strum (there were a lot of ukes in the house) a song.

He suggested, "I've Been Working On The Railroad".  We formed a circle and sang and strummed.

It was endearing.

Later, when one of my most valued and beloved traditionalists had an opportunity to actually see the dreaded documentary, he remarked, or words to this effect, "....... but when they talk about the ukulele they are quite sweet." 

Aren't we all.

"Ain't we sweet. See us strumming down the street. Now I ask you very confidentially, ain't we sweet."   A variant from a cut on a two CD set, "Beatles at the BBC".

regards, robert wheeler founder Ukulele Consciousness

Fred Fallin and Casey Korder, Ukulele Players. Photo: robert wheeler

Session #3 - February 18, 2003

I Love My Supertone

A most valuable ukulele came in to my possession through the societal altering enterprise called "eBay".

It arrived, this wondrous example of early 20th Century Chicago factory production, sold to the original owner by that legendary American Retailer, Sears & Roebuck, bearing the proud proprietary trade mark "Supertone"  It has a few flaws.

The instrument was strung with steel strings. Metal washers were attached to fasten the strings at the slots on the bridge, originally intended to fasten gut strings.  The bridge is somewhat damaged.

The wooden body, likely an American hardwood, "mahogany" finished,  had a top binding of white celluloid.  The flaws in the body are:

I once saw a boxed LP recording set of music, written  by an unforgettable  classic  European composer, who was a wonderfully accomplished organ player, as well as composer.   The performer on this LP set, one E. Power Biggs, English organ player, traveled all over Europe, with attended sound recording engineers and other music business lackeys,  playing this unforgettable composer's compositions on organs that the composer, himself, had played on.  Perhaps, the actual compositions that had been played on those very organs, but I don't remember.

Now, it turns out, the composer was very young when his gift began pumping out these wonderful organ compositions. About as young as you and I were as we prepared to enter 6th or 7th grade.  Perhaps earlier.  So he, the composer, was a bit out of control and at one organ, carved his initials on some part of the organ.  Somewhere in Europe.   I don't remember on which part of the organ.

As part of this boxed set, a printed booklet discussed the compositions, described the organs, and gave their location.  In various parts of Europe.

The cover, or first page, of the booklet had a printed reverential representation of a rubbing of the young man's act of vandalism., his initials. Carved into the wood of the organ.

Given these remarks, what follows may be considered as flaws of this ukulele, or as reverential historic information.

In addition to the physical damage to the wood and the deterioration of adhesives, there are "markings".  All over the uke. Top.  Side. Back. Neck, Front, back and one side of the head. These markings, mostly alphabetic characters, with a few numbers and "strokes", have been crafted using white paint, black paint, and styluses of various kinds that were used to scratch through the finish into the living wood.

The "markings" are loosely divided into dates, names, phrases or sayings, graphics,  and geographical or institutional identification. 

DATES:  Deeply scratch on the back of the head, above the pegs, "1923". 

At the top of the front of the head, white paint, "Mush 30". (Which, parenthetically, will also be listed under the "names" section below.)

Scratched on the back of the uke's body, associated with a group of names (refer to  "parenthetically" comment above) with the title "The Wonder Boys" is the date 1931.

Also, scratched on the  back, and associated with a group of names (you know the drill!!!) with the title "The Lehigntonians" is the date "Oct. 1936".

The various inscribed dates would suggest that his instrument was not treated as a one-night-music-stand,  but rather as a long term source of pleasure and delight.

For purpose of brevity I will include initials as well as names, in the following section.

These "people" are listed as observed  on the uke, not alphabetically.  The sequence will be, front side, top to bottom, left side, top to bottom, back, top to bottom, and right side, top to bottom: 

FRONT: PEOPLE: Mush, Peg, Boops, Sizzle Kid, Mary, Paul, Nanky, Winnie,  Hal, Helen, Eve, Melvin Moyer, Bill, Honey, REG, Peppy, EH, Jazz One, Hell, Peppy, Wes K., Jack A., Roy K., Mush M., Bill, W.M.M.

SAYINGS: "Ain't She Hot", "Get Dirty", "Five Foot Two - sounds familiar - "Hot Lips", "Hot Uke", "One For All, All For One, Every Man For Himself".

GRAPHIC: ON the head are painted, in white, 4 small triangles, pointing at the unexplained holes drilled above the pegs.  At  6th fret are two painted dots, at 8th fret is one centered dot, at 10th fret is a curved line. Put them all together, 6, 8, 10, they spell, a face. Here's lookin' at you. At the 9th fret, across the width of the neck, is an attempt to carve a representation of snake skin, or an adolescent skin condition. At the base of the frets below the neck, painted on the top is a white painted representation of the pointed end of fancier uke's pointed fret board, my Supertone's frets are inbedded in the neck, no fret board. Within this, are the initials "LHS". I believe that the "HS" stands for High School. The "L"? I could guess.

LEFT SIDE: PEOPLE: Hot Joe, Nobby, Babs, Viola, Lill, Eddy.

SAYINGS: "Play That Thing???!!!"

BACK: PEOPLE: Mush - (I'm kind'a getting the feeling that this was Mush's uke -) , D.L.U., Blow, Al, Ming Tin Tom, R.B.G., M.P.A., "The Wonder Boys'- Webby, Mush, Gordy, Moony, F.S.S.- Hot Shot, "The  Lehightonians - Ute, Sleepy, Mush, Jerome, Boops.

SAYINGS: "And How".

GRAPHIC: A pumpkin like face is scratched on the heel. Here's lookin' at you.

RIGHT SIDE: PEOPLE: Jimme, B.K.L., Mel, Moddy, Swede, Mally.

SAYINGS: "If I could talk?1 Oh, Oh!*?@

Maybe there is no need to talk.  Dangling from the uke, on a cord, is a pair of baby shoes.

Need I say more? About the uke?

I will remark that although contemporary youth culture, is there any other kind?, suggests that "HOT" is the latest discovery, closely following on exposing one's navel while shopping, and other  social gatherings, .... that Mush knew HOT, if not in 1923, certainly by 1936. Years and years ago.

I just love my Silvertone.



Warm regards,

robert
founder

Session #4 - February 26, 2003

As you may or not recall the previous session was ended with the phrase, "I just love my Silvertone."

How could anyone love a Silvertone, one might ask. The exciting display of craftsmanship? The connection to an enterprise that rose to the tallest, for a while, building in the whole entire world?

Perhaps not.

How about the interaction of human beings and the tortured path of valued instruments to the founder?

Jake, long time musician friend, and former room mate, calls and says that the dream find of the century has been discovered, by a mutual friend, who shall remain nameless.

It turns out that a man who lived across the street from nameless has up and died. The dead guy, who had been a surgeon, or heart specialist, or some sort of high priced doctor, had left in his attic a large number of musical instruments. It turns out that this doc, while not a great musician, liked instruments, would buy them, and put them in his attic.

The widow asks her neighbor across the street, nameless, knowing that he has an interest in musical instruments, if he would look at them, and perhaps help her in "disposing" of them.

My heart stopped. "High Priced Doctor". Attic. Martin! Gibson!!! Koa!!!!!

Jake says that while most of the instruments are guitars and banjos and mandolins, there are a few ukuleles. Jake actually has one in his possession. Would I like to see it? He's doing a gig at a local farm stand, tomorrow. A drug and smoke free environment. Stop by.

The uke is a late teens, early 20's, Harmony. Blue paint. Hula dancer pointing at seagulls, seagulls, palm trees, wooden pegs, and early red garland Harmony decal. Used but not abused.

It turns out that all of the instruments are of Harmony quality. Which means good, but not Martin. Not Gibson. Not high priced.

My heart resumes its normal rhythm. Excellent condition. Priced reasonably. I now have another Harmony. Very nice.

There are other ukes in the attic. Jake will get in touch with nameless, and we can go over and look in the attic. Great. I'll call.

I call.

Nameless has take all of the instruments to the Music Emporium, a local and well respected local retail musical establishment.

"He took them to the Music Emporium!!!!!!?????" Why not take them to the Prince of Darkness or get your grammar school daughter a job in a Los Vegas dance ensemble.

They're all gone.

But wait. Jake says he bought a uke from the attic, before it fell in to the hands of the Prince of Darkness. A Silvertone. "Mahogany" finish. Early 50's. Frets in neck. Painted woman in grass skirt sitting in the grass playing a uke. Palm tree. Clouds. Dodge tail fin shaped plastic tuner pegs. "Silvertone" printed on head.

"What do you want a Silvertone for," says I. "It is no way matches the musical quality of the 20's Martin Style 0 I gave you." Emphasis on "I gave you." (I will just mention that if you have a lot of ukuleles you can occasionally give one away, thus enhancing your reputation as a giving and caring person.)

Jake wanted to keep the Silvertone.

I then used (must credit Woody Allen) an old Navajo Indian trick. Begging and pleading.

I just love my Silvertone.



Regards,

robert
founder

Session #5 - February 27, 2003

Near Perfect

I awaken.

Moonlight, reflected by the deep snow cover all around the house, illuminates my bedroom.

I slip from 'neath the covers and quietly move towards the door. Ansel, our cat, from his current place on our bed, stretches, and then follows me through the doorway.

Carefully shutting the door, I go into the Uke Room.

A light. Ukuleles.

High on a special section is my Earnest Tululele, sunburst finish. Joel Eckhaus' respectful nod to Leo Fender's first is not only imitative, but also innovative. And cute.

The pitch of each string is tested with my electronic tuner. A Korg.

The official genuine leather Fender strap is fastened to the chromed buttons. One end of a cord is plugged into the Tululele and the other into my battery powered Pignose amplifier.

Softly, in the night, I strum cord progressions from my Fleetwood Mac music book.

"Sweet, wonderful you.........."

........... near to Perfect.

Session #6 - February 28, 2003

House of Correction

Discovering places to play your ukulele when you have no talent is easy.

Nursing homes. The sham of America's myth of caring.

Open mikes. Were the management has more interest in drunks than they do in ukulele players and Master of Ceremonies who believe that they are entitled to the amount of star suck usually given to Willie Nelson. They don't seem to get it that Willie's trouble with the IRS was firmly based on money he got from penning, humming and strumming, and not a day job or a one night a week MC gig.

Woman's prisons. It's not just that a room full of women, all whom have been convicted of felonies, are loud and boisterous and threatening, but the woman sitting at the side, expressionless, staring at me, at my only female prison performance, was the woman I had seen on TV being sentenced for murdering her two toddlers.

I might not have found the experience so displeasing had I not been required, when I arrived, to go into a small lavatory, with a male guard. He had me open my uke case, empty my pockets, take off my boots, and then fondle my balls to make sure I wasn't smuggling anything. Smuggling drugs was a continuing problem.

As for men's prisons, I was able to handle nine visits.

It should not have come as a surprise to me when, at my last ever prison performance, bless you J. Cash, extra guards had to come into the mess hall, scene of my performances, and assist in escorting my audience into "The Tunnel" - a passageway between the cell blocks and the mess hall.

As things grew out of control, I put my 1920's Martin soprano ukulele, Style 2K, into its case and held it by my side.

Out of the swirl of my audience's departure came two phrases that I remember.

A guard said .... "We'll leave them in "The Tunnel" a while. They'll work it out." Seems that some of my audience were pissed. They wanted to watch the ukulele player. Some didn't.

In the group of four punks, that initiated the shutdown, the tallest, and biggest, and lowest ranked, whose mouth, set in a cherubic face, appeared to be unable to close completely, said..."We were just having fun!"...as he was moved towards "The Tunnel".

Had I not been blinded by my show business ambitions I would have paid more attention to the initial comments of the soft hairdoed young woman who scheduled entertainment for the incarcerated.

"What you want in your audience is a real good murderer. The punks will behave themselves."

During my prison time I had two real good murderers.

I didn't know enough songs to fill the performance time, so, in addition to song and uke, I would read "MY POETRY. This was a period of my life when I had yet to understand how embarrassing "MY POETRY" was.

One Real Good Murderer, hearing that I was going to read some of "MY POETRY", asked if he could read some of his. Of course!

I judged the first man to emerge from "The Tunnel" into the mess hall as the "poet", not only by the manila folder he held but also by the sincere deference exhibited by his felonious peers. He sat close enough to me that he could have put his hand on my knee. Or my throat.

His poetry was about his world.

The other murderer looked well groomed, like a CEO of a fortune 500 company. In crisp button down shirt, pressed faded blue jeans and rubber "push and goes" with the thong pressing the bright white socks back between his big toe and the next. His peers were appropriately deferential.

He sat to the rear of the group and read a news paper. Folding and refolding it, like a subway rider.

One of "MY POEMS" I read was written in reaction to my son's death.

At the end of what might be called my performance, the man, the "Real Good Murderer", stood up, and with his folded paper in hand, walked through the group, right up to me. Actually he didn't walk "through" the group. The group parted for him to pass.

"How old was your son?"

"Twenty one."

"You had him that long."

He turned and walked, through the still opened pathway, into "The Tunnel". The others followed. It was the first emotionally meaningful remark that anyone had made to me following my son's death.

I'm glad I stopped "MY POETRY". Too embarrassing.

As I said, too embarrassing.



Regards,

robert wheeler
founder
Ukulele Consciousness

Session #7 - March 1, 2003

Effects of the Global Economy on things ukulele.

Sincerely,

robert wheeler
founder
Ukulele Consciousness

Session #8 - March 5, 2003

Mexican Ukuleles
The Good, The Very Good, The Quite All Right, and The Ugly

Tamales.

Ah, yes tamales.

Like ukes there are all kinds of tamales.

Johnson's Tamale Parlor on Mission Street in my home town. This was in the days before plastic packaging, so if you took the tamales home, hot, they would be placed in paper pulp trays and wrapped in newspaper. Ambrosia.

Tamales in an Arlington, Massachusetts Mexican Restaurant who's owner had brought his recipe from the interior of Mexico, hundreds of miles away from the influence of Tex-Mex. Unbelievable.

Tamales at Playland At The Beach, a huge amusement park by the sea, now gone and replaced with condos, in a city of homelessness. The Mexican restaurant was architecturally shaped like Hollywood's vision of a Mexican village, starring Abbot and Costello. Eating tamales with the roar of the Pacific Ocean in front of you and the roar of a roller coaster behind you was unbelievably wonderful. Although I must confess, that if it were not for the theme of this piece, I would be writing about enchiladas. Like the big enchilada. "Cause I've always liked enchiladas better than tamales. Still do. If I had half a brain, I would have used a picture of an enchilada in the pervious Ukulele Consciousness piece. However, there's no turning back now.

Canned tamales. What was that I ate?

Also, like ukuleles, these, and many more, tamales, while differing in quality and delight, have a similar basic structure. Soft corn dough, often wrapped in corn husk, and some seasoned filling. Kind of like a body and neck and four strings.

It appears that some have been bad mouthing ukuleles made in Mexico. Considering these troubled times, and that things ukulele can spam historical and cultural boundaries, I feel compelled to comment.

GOOD: I first met Marc Silber, at his shop in Berkley, California. I was prompted to visit him by the information that I had seen about a ukulele that he was offering. The Frisco Uke. I had, by that time in my life, gotten over the arrogant objection to the word "Frisco" that my birth, and births of two earlier generations, in The City By The Bay had for so longed lumbered me. I used to get hostel when the unwashed addressed my city as "Frisco".

Marc Silber's "Frisco Uke", which he and Chuck Fayne, currently of Glen Iris, Victoria, Australia, and a prestigious and respected figure in the international ukulele community, designed, using the Roy Smeck Vita Ukulele, made by the Harmony Company at the time of the height of Smeck's career, the 1920's, as an inspiration.

The Roy Smeck Vita Uke was produced by the Harmony Company with care in material selection and detail of construction that far exceeded the standards that applied to the majority of ukuleles they were making at the time. Suffice to say that the difference in quality between the Vita Uke, and its companion instruments - mandolin - guitar - was as the difference between a Lincoln and a Model T, of the period.

Marc arranged to have the Frisco Ukes constructed in Mexico. He had earlier had guitars constructed in Mexico, and therefore had not only access to builders that he knew, but whose quality of workmanship he trusted. After all, his name was on the instruments.

Marc also exercised a regime of careful quality control.

Roy Smeck Vita Uke, circa 1920s

Marc Silber Frisco Uke, circa 2000

THE VERY GOOD: On the same trip on which I visited Marc Silber, I stopped by the shop of Kenny Hill in Felton California, a short hop up the mountain from Santa Cruz.

Before risking his fortune in the production of ukuleles, Kenny had enjoyed success as a guitar player, and then maker. His "Hill Guitar Co." has been identified with quality instruments for more than 20 years. Not only made in the Santa Cruz mountains of California, but also instruments made, under his control, in Mexico.

The ukulele that inspired Kenny to make ukes was a koa Kumalia, 1915 Panama Pacific Gold Medal model. The first one he encountered was damaged. Broken. All in pieces.

This gave Kenny an opportunity to look at the guts and construction techniques. He said..."....this is put together like a flamenco guitar. Hummmm.... interesting."

The first effort to get a "Uke Brand" uke made was in the shops of Mexico. Kenny wasn't satisfied with the musical characteristics of these efforts. There were a few of these "South of The Boarder" ukes in his shop. They were being offered at very low prices, they certainly were handsome enough, but before seeing these instruments I had seen, and played, one of the California Dreamin' instruments. I was droolin'.

The instruments made in Felton proved superior, so ever since that, Kenny's "Uke Brand" ukuleles have been made in Felton, California. Not only the Kumalia inspired koa instruments in plain and rope bound, soprano and concert, but also his most recent Mainland Concert models, that were inspired by the concert ukuleles made in Nazareth, Pennsylvania, by, arguably, the best ukulele makers in the history of the western world. Available in not only mahogany, as were the inspiration instruments, but also in koa and spruce topped rosewood. Extremely cool.

With skill, experience, and interest, Kenny Hill is making a wonderful contribution to the resurgence of interest in the ukulele. In construction detail and craftsmanship, inside as well as out, Uke Brand ukuleles are as good as any that ever came out of Nazareth, prior to WW II. There quality is matched by few and exceeded by fewer.

I find it highly unlikely that anyone would be disappointed in a "Uke Brand" instrument.

QUITE ALL RIGHT: Would it seem inappropriate if I brought an Hawaiian influence into this rambling. I think not. I am, after all, talking about ukuleles.

A few years back, in a remote village, in New Jersey, I attended the Ukulele Hall of Fame Museum's Uke Expo. This was the year that it snowed. I met Paul Weinstein of Bounty Music, Kahului, Maui, Hawaii. Paul had a vendor's table and had brought many ukuleles from his shop.

Now Paul, like any traveler might, had encountered some difficulties. When he arrived at the car rental counter to get his reserved car, he, and the car rental clerk, discovered that his Hawaiian driver's license had expired. Paul's mother, a dear and wonderful woman, rescued her son and got him, and all of his ukuleles, to the hotel.

Upon hearing of Paul's travail, I offered to drive him and his ukes, back and fourth between the hotel and the site of the Uke Expo. As a gesture of thanks, Paul gave me a significant discount on a ukulele that I exhibited some interest in.

This ukulele, a "Kalia", had been crafted in Mexico. My principal interest in the uke was its spruce top. In addition to having a belief that spruce topped ukuleles sound more romantic, and are therefore better able to achieve the true purpose of the ukulele, the grain on this ukulele's top was lightly "quilted". A feature that costs extra if you order a D45. I had to have it!

Feature after feature of this ukulele was appealing. A mahogany neck with head veneer of some kind of magic Mexican hardwood. The same material as the back and sides, nicely bound, back and top. A separate saddle on a tie bridge. Like a dwarf classical guitar. Rosewood fret board with correctly proportioned position markers.

What was most impressive about the instrument was its craftsmanship. On a scale of 1 -10, it was clearly a 7 or 8.

The label on the inside of the ukulele read:

KALIA
Hawaiian Ukulele
Made of the finest tonewoods and top
quality hardware available today.

Design, quality check, & critical detailing by custom luthier
Michael Rock in Maui, Hawaii, USA. Crafted in Mexico.

There was an "800" number should you want to talk to him about his Mexican ukulele.

Michael appears to be willing to put his mouth were your money goes.

UGLY: Back Packer and SO. Made in Mexico.

I understand, from recent press, that a superceding model to the SO is being offered.

Following my purchase of a Back Packer, I was excited by the prospects of having a quality ukulele, with a Historical name and provenance, and the recognizable shape of a ukulele, and then so disappointed by the made in Mexico SO, that I've not had the courage to see if their new Mexican, stained, offering has addressed the quality issues of musical instruments made in Mexico.

Maybe I should call them up? I wonder who I would talk to? I wonder what I would talk about.

Years ago, when I had the opportunity to talk to C.F. Martin III, I asked him why the early Martin ukuleles where so crudely made. We had a wonderful conversation.


regards,

robert wheeler
founder
Ukulele Consciousness