Kate Holmquist, writing in The Irish Times, draws a thoughtful and refreshing parallel between the act of writing and ukulele playing. My favorite quote:
Playing the ukulele during a flight? Great, hours of I'm Yours; Build Me Up Buttercup; Hey, Soul Sister. Count me (proudly) among those ukulele players who aren't among the nicest people you're ever going to meet. If you start playing your damn instrument next to me on a flight and I hear that Rainbow rhythm starting-up, I'm going to channel Bluto Blutarsky in Animal House and smash your prize toy, be it Martin or Makala, to smithereens. And no doubt to the appreciative cheers of the other passengers. Where are those United baggage handlers when we really need them?
2 comments:
Playing the ukulele during a flight?
Great, hours of I'm Yours; Build Me Up Buttercup; Hey, Soul Sister. Count me (proudly) among those ukulele players who aren't among the
nicest people you're ever going to meet. If you start playing your damn instrument next to me on a flight and I hear that Rainbow rhythm starting-up, I'm
going to channel Bluto Blutarsky in Animal House and smash your prize toy, be it Martin or Makala, to smithereens. And no doubt to the appreciative cheers of the other passengers. Where are those United baggage handlers when we really need them?
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