Monday was laundry day, not by design, but by necessity and downright laziness because I couldn’t make myself go the laundromat on the weekend. Had I gone on the weekend, though, I would have missed the young gentleman with the ukulele. Tall, dark-haired, bearded, off-beat, cute. About 30 years ago, I would have smiled, made eye contact and possibly started up a conversation. Instead, I kept to the folding of my laundry while he played that little instrument in serenade to a young lady who was there. He explained that everybody needed a minstrel to follow them. She ignored him, not appreciating his philosophy. I suspect they were together, though. As I was leaving with my folded clothes and saw him out in the parking lot still playing the ukulele, I couldn’t help but stop and tell him that I agreed that everyone should have a minstrel. He laughed and said that at least the world would have more music.
Perhaps, but that’s not why I appreciated his statement. Think about it -– a personal minstrel, there to play music, to change your mood, to make you appreciate the simplicity of the melody as you enjoy a special moment or go about your day to day. It’s also an announcement that you’re there and there’s someone at your side playing just for you until you tell them to to stop, and someone who take up that instrument again at your whim and make you happy once more, all of their own free will. It’s downright romantic in an odd sort of way.
Okay, the ukulele might not be my first choice of instrument to listen to. Perhaps it wasn’t that young girl’s, either (or maybe she’d been hearing it for a while). But, perhaps it’s the thought that counts. Love, support and sincerity wrapped in music. Simple things to be reminded of in our present tumultuous times.
Yes, perhaps we all need a minstrel to follow us once in a while.
