Author Archives: Cali Rose

Hubby and I, partners in love and ukulele, are heading east to the land where there is a three hour time difference.

We’re meeting with the riotous Indy Ukers of Indianapolis, Indiana, on Wednesday evening, July 18 from 6:00 to 7:30 P.M. to play, sing, teach a little and have one glorious Kanikapila of a time. Joy central is The Sam Ash Music Store (located at 8284 Center Run Drive, Indianapolis, IN 46250).

And everyone is welcome. Even if you don’t play the ukulele, you can join the fun!

Then we are driving to New Haven, Missouri, which is west of St. Louis, for the Mighty Mo Ukulele Festival, July 20 through July 22, Read More

As if my wild ride through the car wash last weekend wasn’t enough… (see previous post)

A family of crows, who I suspect helped themselves to the all-you-can-eat salad bar at The Sizzler, took a royal dump on my front windshield. This morning. My husband insists I go straightaway to our own car wash here in the neighborhood. Compared to the crazy sci-fi one in the valley, “The Bubble Machine” is normal. And soon I am on my way to meet a dear friend for breakfast. Driving an extra, extra clean car.

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I arrive at my house party gig way too early. The trip from my part of Los Angeles to their part of the San Fernando Valley is not so far as the seagull flies, but seagulls don’t have to drive on the 405 Freeway which has turned into a 24/7 construction zone. One little bumper-thumper can jam up the road as if there’s molasses on the asphalt. That is why I leave extra early for my gigs these days.

So what to do with this bonus hour? I know. I’ll drive around. Sightsee.

That’s when I see, I mean really “see” that my windshield is streaked with splotches of gray goo, that a family of crows have left puddles of their digested breakfast on the hood of my car, that the sticky flowers that hang over our carport have turned the rear end of my white sedan into an explosion of purple mush. Obviously I don’t usually consider this an issue of major importance. But tonight I am parking in a client’s driveway and suddenly I want to make a good impression. Boy oh boy, where did that come from?

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Hubby and I don’t get out much. We’re too busy woodshedding on our ukuleles and doing “music stuff.” So it’s a real treat to go to the movies and we have a hot date this morning at the mall cinema up the road. The one that shows foreign flicks.

We’re here to see a French movie, “The Intouchables.” The word on the street is “see it or else.” We find our assigned seats. They are cushy comfy and actually rock. A phalanx of women plop down in front of us. I overhear one say she saw the movie two nights ago and loved it so much she had to see it again and bring her mother.

A maroon-festooned usher stands in front of the screen and personally welcomes us to the theater, reminds us to please turn off all the _you-know-what’s_ and of course, enjoy the movie. Maybe he really wants to be an actor, but frankly the young man is so sweet and sincere that we give him a round of applause when he finishes his announcements. I think it’s a very NPR kind of crowd. Read More

My husband and I attended the big boisterous party, known as The Hollywood Bowl, to watch Glen Campbell do his farewell performance in Los Angeles. He is saying goodbye. This mega-talented musician, singer, entertainer is slowly taking leave of “this” world, of “his” world and all he holds dear.

Alzheimer’s disease.

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