A few things.
Ukulele is friend.
In one episode of The West Wing, President Bartlet tells one of his generals to teach his new daughter how to whistle, because her mother won't. This is true. I learned how to whistle from my grandad. We sucked on lemons together in the summer sun to get our mouths to pucker in just the right way. It was a fucking Norman Rockwell painting. I am not good at whistling, my grandad was (he wore suspenders and everything) but here you are. We can only carry memes so far.
This is a cover of San Francisco Bay Blues. (I think) originally recorded by a band called Mungo Jerry, but popularized by Clapton (the Unplugged album). This was the first song I learned on the ukulele, and I am still only mediocre at it.
Any song, played well, will feature improvised riffs. This is not one of those songs. This was just me skipping ahead. But it sounded pure, and when I listened to it after, it didn't sound as horrid as I thought, so I stuck with it. Call it: my take!
Don't be afraid to bang that wood (har-har) while you're strumming. Professionals will say you're inexperienced; you can just tell them that they're just not hearing the notes that aren't being. Dude! It's wild, man! You un-hip cat!
Any song in the key of C can end with the Mario Bros. death song. At least in the key that I know how to play it.

I am sorry.
On that note, I swear I feel like Israel Kamakawiwo'ole sometimes, since I kinda have to perch this instrument on top of me to play. But that's no excuse; that man was heaven. All I have to complain about is the boobies.
Stephen Prandy
2020-07-07 03:14:39 +0000 UTCPetrafied
2020-07-07 01:42:05 +0000 UTCGary Edwards
2020-07-07 01:41:31 +0000 UTCHeather Beck
2020-07-07 01:40:51 +0000 UTCGary Edwards
2020-07-07 01:34:23 +0000 UTC