To the Boy with the Red Ukelele

I spotted you as I pulled up next to the school today. Dark-haired boy, wearing blue jeans and a blue shirt. You sat cross-legged on the lawn, strumming a red ukelele. I rolled down the passenger window so I could hear you. It sounded good, a serendipitous slice of live music in my afternoon.

Katie climbed into the back seat and I pointed you out to her. “Oh yeah,” she said, “the ukelele dude.”

“Your school has a unicycle dude and a ukelele dude?”

“Yep.”

“How come I haven’t seen him before?”

“Oh,” Katie said. “Usually he walks home playing his ukelele. He must be getting a ride today.”

All matter-of-factly. As if a red-ukelele-playing elementary student on the school lawn is something to be expected.

To me, though, you were unexpected and altogether wonderful. Play on.

2 thoughts on “To the Boy with the Red Ukelele

  1. I wonder if the difference between the young and old is that one group can’t keep their music inside while the other group leave so much of it unsung.

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