Eighty-four-year-old Steve Brooks strums his miniature, four-string guitar and leans back in his chair. He holds the ukulele as if it’s an extension of his body, his gaze fixed straight ahead, with an unbreakable grin on his face.
“The ukulele invites creativity,” he says. “That’s why I got into it.”
The ukulele was developed in Hawaii in the 1880s, inspired by tiny guitar-like instruments that Portuguese immigrants brought to the island.
But back in the ’50s, when Brooks was in his early 20s, there were no famous ukulele masters like Jake Shimabukuro to influence him, so Brooks adapted old-time folk standards like “Ain’t She Sweet” and “Five Foot Two (Eyes of Blue).”
His wife and fellow ukulele master, 79-year-old Barbara, sits next to Steve in the sprawling living room of their Carmel A-frame. A kayak Steve made by hand hangs above them, transformed into a light fixture.
Barbara thumbs through a copy of Buddy Griffin’s Happy Time Ukulele Method and Song Book. She swears it’s the most definitive, and only, ukulele instruction book an aspiring player will ever need. “[Ukulele] is the kind of instrument that invites you to sing along,” she says. “Singing is a wonderful and healthy thing.”
As career educators – Steve is a retired Diablo Valley Community College physics professor, and Barbara retired from teaching English as a second language to the spouses of foreign officers at the Naval Postgraduate School – the couple never lost their desire to teach.
In 2009, the Brookses taught beginner ukulele lessons at Carmel’s Church of the Wayfarer, then threw an informal graduation for the ukulele students at Gianni’s Pizza on Lighthouse Avenue. That was the start of what has evolved into the Monterey Ukulele Club and its weekly jam session, 4-6pm every Sunday at American Burger.
You’ll find Steve and Barbara there just about every week, usually with 20-25 other uke lovers. Participants don’t have to stick with ukulele, though. Barbara rotates in lap drum, washboard and even spoons.
The Brookses no longer offer formal ukulele lessons, but they’re always eager to put a uke in the hands of a novice. I don’t have one, so Barbara hands me one of her many spares: a Flea Ukulele by the Magic Fluke Company out of Hartford, Connecticut.
She picks up her high-end Augusto LoPrinzi uke, shows me where to put my finger on the third fret and tells me to play the C chord, then the G7 chord. I strum back and forth – C and G7 – a dozen times, creating a tune that could be the beginning of “This Land is Your Land,” or “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain.” “With those two chords, you can now play hundreds of songs,” she says gleefully.
They tell me to take the uke and the songbook, practice, and see them again Sunday at American Burger.
I feel the anxiety gather on the top of my shoulders as I walk into the buzz of ukulele-centric conversations a few days later. Close to 30 people are here, including the five members of The Back Row Boys, who lead the jam from the small stage. About 90 percent in attendance seem to be at least 60 years old.
Longtime club member Cindy Ku’uipo, a native of Oahu, Hawaii, says a majority of local uke lovers are retired military – more specifically, Vietnam vets. As a thirty-something non-military guy, I’m in the minority, but everyone seems happy to have a newcomer.
The theme of the day is “Songs of the ’60s.” The song packets include music and lyrics to everything from Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Tell it on the Mountain” and Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind” to John Denver’s “Leaving on a Jet Plane” and Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.”
The whole group plays through the songs in the packet together. It doesn’t matter if you have a good singing voice or if you sing at all. And no one slaps your wrist if you can’t keep up on uke or you play a wrong note. Even though I have the C and G7 chords down, I make no less than several dozen mistakes, but the folks around me play on with big smiles. The Monterey Ukulele Club has one objective: to have fun.
“Everyone’s getting together to bring the soul of the islands back to our hearts,” Ku’uipo says. “It gives us joy.”
Juliette Le, also from Oahu, is one of the club’s newest members. She’s been coming for two months now and says she taught herself how to play ukulele, but she learns more every Sunday. Her motivation to show up at American Burger week after week is easy to understand: “The ukulele is just fun to play.”
I know that I’ll be back.
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