I impulse bought a ukelele on my way to Bemidji on Saturday, because there’s something about visiting home that turns me into a teenager. I’m thinking I’m mostly going to learn over dramatic Madonna songs from the 90’s, sad jazz standards which I will sing as though I’m woefully high on pills and then I’ll fill in the rest of the repertoire with Johnathan Richman songs.
I think we can all agree it’s a pretty great mix. And if we can’t, maybe we should all just be happy that I didn’t pierce my nose or dye my hair purple or some other form of mid-nineties adolescent expression. And finally, here are some pictures of what my hometown looks like in my heart…
These do not accurately represent what it looks like in real life. C