I Remember It Well

The Yesterukes enjoyed another lunch together today. (Maybe we should be writing a "ukulele players like to eat" blog.) We do enjoy sharing a meal with our audiences.

Today's audience at Second Presbyterian Church was one of the best. While we played, we watched faces and saw the smiles. We watched the sly glance and a squeeze of the hand between husband and wife when we played "their song." We watched people sing along with us when it was one of their favorites. We've said it before--we're in the memory business as much as the music business. After today's program so many people stayed around to share their stories and their memories. That is the best part of the gig.

At the end of today's program--after a standing ovation--the program host thanked us "for bringing extreme joy" to those in attendance. What a wonderful thing we get to do!

I Remember It Well, Maurice Chevalier in the movie Gigi, 1958

Tuesday Afternoon

Today's program started in the morning but it was Tuesday afternoon by the time we were done. We were at Mauldin First Baptist church for their monthly senior adult luncheon.

It's always fun to watch the church members have such fun visiting as we are setting up for the event. It's probably more about the fellowship than about the program that gets these folks out each month.

We got a few minutes to catch our breath and settle in before our part of the program starts. We had fun today as we always do, singing familiar old songs. And the audience enjoyed it, too. So many wanted to talk a minute after everything was over, just to tell us what a good time they had.

And after the music came a wonderful lunch. 

We do enjoy good food!

It was a sweet day.

Tuesday Afternoon, Moody Blues, 1970

Memories Are Made Of This

We are in the music business. But more importantly, we are in the memory business. Our music is all from days gone by. There were such smiles and sparkling eyes as we played today for the senior adults at Convenant United Methodist Church.

After the program so many people came up to share a memory. The songs mean different things to different people. One widow said she wished her husband could have heard us; that he sang these songs all the time. Another told us that she sang every song with us--songs she knew from her teen years. One after another, they came to talk. "We used to...." "That reminded me of..."  And we were happy to listen.

Music is powerful. It's like a time machine. Music can zip us right back to our high school or college days. We think it's why folks enjoy us so much. They hear us and for about 45 minutes, they are young again.

That, and the fact that our music is really good. The best comment of the day was overheard as we were leaving. "No wonder you have to book them a year in advance!" We're glad she liked us.


Memories Are Made Of This, Dean Martin, 1956

Welcome To My World

When you want to surprise someone in a big way, you could invite an 18-piece ukulele band to play at the party. (No one expects to walk into a room to be greeted by a full-blown ukulele concert.)

The surprise party was for a well-known ukulele builder. This birthday was a significant one. By the Yesterukes standard, he's still a boy, but we were happy to welcome him to our world--the world that sometimes gets you a free cup of coffee or a discount at the store on certain days of the week.

It was a fun evening, complete with assorted birthday cakes, one decorated with a ukulele just for him. The birthday boy joined us for the final song of the evening. He can now consider himself an honorary Yesteruke. Happy Birthday, Russ! 

Welcome To My World, Jim Reeves, 1961

C'est Magnifique

The Yesterukes took a field trip yesterday--a trip to hear ukulele prodigy Jake Shimbukuro in concert at the Newberry Opera House. Half of our band was able to go see the best ukulele player in the world. (Not everyone hung around for the photo.) He is truly amazing. So glad he was close enough to us that we could make the trip.

As we were leaving, we ran into some of our fans--fans of the Yesterukes. We said, "Just so you know....we can't play like that." And the gentleman walking beside us didn't miss a beat. He replied, "Not yet." We like his confidence in us! We hold no illusions, though. Jake Shimabukuro is a one-of-a-kind talent. We were just happy to see him in person.

For those of you were not with us, here is your chance to hear a song we saw him play yesterday:

He will be performing at the Spoleto Festival in South Carolina later in the spring. Maybe you can see him there.


C'est Magnifique, Peggy Lee, 1960

Happy Together

How good it was to be back together today! We took a month off for a much needed rest, but everyone was more than ready to start back. It was a full workout today as we tackled a new set list and a couple of new songs. 

The music sounded better than ever. It's funny how some songs that seemed impossible just come together when the time is right. Not sure how other ukulele bands do it, but we work pretty hard at our practices. Perfection is never the goal (having fun is always at the top of our list,) but we do try to make our programs as good as we can. 

Edna brought a prescription from her doctor that says it is okay for her to play with our band. We think it is more than okay--it is good for her health to be with us!

Practice is over for today, 

but we will be back together next week.

Happy Together, The Turtles, 1967

Merry Christmas To You

Wishing you peace and joy this holiday season. Take a few minutes to breathe and to marvel at the blessings all around you.

The Yesterukes will be taking a winter break. Look for us back here on the internet in about 6 weeks or so. We're old. We need the rest.

Thank you to all who have visited us here during the year. We would love it if you readers would leave a comment here at the end of this blog post. Or, you can visit our Facebook page and leave a comment or greeting there as well. We will enjoy reading them while we are on break.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!




The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas To You), Mel Torme & Robert Walls, 1946