The banjo-uke
Part banjo ... My great, great, Uncle, or something like that, was Eddie Condon. And I like to think of him up in heaven quietly guiding my late night lyric cramming sessions, and running scales and burning out my wrists on the guitar. He started out playing the banjo, then moved to a four-string guitar, before going on to make history as one of the Chicago Seven.
Part uke ... Mr. Saunders is very well likely up there with Eddie, tickling the keys. The martini-swilling Mr. S left me a ukulele when he passed away. It was stolen by a crack-addicted neighbor. Seriously. He is no longer my neighbor.
All Molly ... I like the idea of playing this instrument and having them both so close to me. My guitar represents my father; my voice is my mother; and this banjo-uke will be the boys, and part Federal Government, once I get my tax refund back.
See the little star on the head?
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