I am the keyboard of the man who sits here writing gibberish.
And now it seems the old guy has decided to spend his vacation at home. Which means I won’t get a moments rest for the next two weeks!
A dreadful thought.
So I must do this while he’s asleep. Not as easy as it sounds. For one thing, I can only see the screen upside down. Another thing is, he hunches over that keyboard like a mad pianist, straining and sweating so profusely that he gets me all wet and bothered, and its all I can do to keep my keys functional. But I’ll do my best.
I will write about the world I know. Which is the world of this room.
He will ceremoniously announce to all new-comers to the house that this is their music room, Our music chamber, if you will, he pompously says. And then he’ll make a grand gesture with his arm at the guitar and ukulele collection hanging about the floor and walls.
He makes me want to gag. I’ve heard him play. And let me tell you, it’s more like the torture chamber. At least when he’s playing. His wife, Darcey, is another story. A gem she is. True blue and a genuine ukulele player and artist. Not a fraud like her husband.
Enough about him, though. What I like about this room is they have a genuine record player. So lovely. He’ll play his old Beatle records and it's wonderful hearing the old scratch and pops that only seem to make them more charming. The other night it was Nat King Cole and I thought my keys were going to break down and cry.
Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
Now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song
Ah, that stardust melody.
Another thing I like is the Blue Hawaii movie poster. Elvis Presley in red swim trunks, playing the ukulele and having the time of his life. In the background of this poster is the Pacific ocean and a gaggle of beautiful babes in swimsuits, all playing ukuleles!
What I wouldn’t give to be Elvis’s ukulele. Or his swim-trunks for that matter! Oh, dear. I think I just melted some of my buttons. Oh, this won’t do at all! I hear him coming.
I must bid you all a ood niht. Oh, darn these buttons! Let us just say air thee ell! Hmmm. How about, aloha. That’s more like it.
Niht and you
And blue Hawaii
The niht is heavenly
And you are heaven to me
And blue Hawaii
With all this loveliness
There should be love