UKE & ME—An Air Canada ode

With contributions from Linnea Good

It’s great to come home, especially when travelling by air, whether from a holiday, a productive work-related trip, or a visit with family and friends. It’s great to return to a familiar place, to be met by familiar people, who will help you carry your luggage out to the car—that is if said luggage arrives with you—which sometimes it doesn’t. So you visit the sometimes-difficult-to-find little kiosk staffed with a sometimes-sheepish attendant who clearly would prefer to be guiding first-class customers to the arrivals lounge for post-travel libations.

It’s like the old joke: At the time of check-in, an eager traveller says to the ticket-agent: “I would like one bag to go to London, another to Paris, and the final piece to Istanbul please.” The agent replies: “I am sorry madam, that simply is not possible.” The customer replies: “Well that’s what happened last time!”

Canadian airlines have experienced a lot of turbulence in recent years, especially regarding luggage handling. As one who once was a frequent-flyer I can cite a number of occasions when my luggage and I suffered separation anxiety. In most cases, we were thankfully reunited within a few hours, or at most by the next day. During one trip to Mexico however, it took three days, enough time for me to buy new clothes, and snore up a storm as I had foolishly packed my CPAP machine. “Never again,” said Mrs. Gray.

Arriving in Dublin a year ago it was sobering to see the long rows of unclaimed, lonely luggage. It was also frustrating—but also humorous—to see crowds of jet-lagged travellers move from one luggage carousel to another, all hoping and dreaming (as if we were arriving on the Korean Peninsula) of reunification. The information on the signs was either contradictory or outright false—there is no direct flight from Shanghai to Dublin.

Now don’t blame the airlines on this—it was the airport authority. And it must be said that we live and move in an era where we should think twice about the climate cost of air travel in particular. Passenger numbers have once again returned to pre-pandemic levels, a state which does not bode well for our planet. That said, note to self, regarding luggage: Avoid Toronto Pearson and of course, the mother of all luggage and connection disasters, London Heathrow.

The above grumbles notwithstanding here is a positive story regarding luggage and travel from Summerland’s own Linnea Good recently returned from a few weeks back home in the Maritimes. Her precious cargo was her Ukulele. Here is her story recently posted on Facebook.

Thank-you, Air Canada: My ukulele is back!

After a 3am wake-up in NB to get to my 6am flight, I stumbled off the plane in Montréal, a zombie. As I sat on the floor in the boarding lounge, awaiting the next flight, I thought to myself, “Hm, if I’m in zone four, I wonder if there will be enough room for my . . . ” Ukulele. Yikes! I had left it in the overhead bin on flight #1. No time to get it back, and with endless consultation between agent Mira and the Lost & Found crew, I left with the promise that it would follow me to Penticton the next day.

Flight #3 was a story in itself, which included some learning about the ways in which commercial planes must navigate their way through skies now occupied by firefighter planes (landing manually). And, while I suspect that my little Uke first went to Fredericton before she came to Penticton (the airport call letters are the same but for one), she is home now, safe and sound.

The instrument was fully protected as I had tucked into its outer pocket a precious handsewn quilt top I was bringing home in carry-on baggage—so that it would not risk getting lost by some miscreant in checked baggage.

So what is so special about this particular Ukulele, and what about the Ukulele in general? Well Linnea is a well-known Uke teacher and advocate. As she travels less in music ministry work these days, she has more time to enrich our little town with Uke music making. She has started, and continues to develop Uke-culture here in Summerland, and for good reason.

Ukes are portable and affordable. The four nylon strings are easy on beginner fingers. They are quiet, gentle, and sweet—you can practice in the middle of the night and not annoy the neighbours. Ukes sound great alone, or en masse. While visually unassuming, they are capable of an amazing array of special effects. Have you hard a Uke steam train-a-comin’? It’s very effective.

As for the instrumental champions, there are many. Whether you listen to the first four bars of Raindrops keep falling of my head, or the sweet strains of Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s Somewhere over the rainbow, the Uke shines and shimmers. Some will remember Tiny Tim tiptoeing through the tulips, and others may recall the “English” school of George Formby and those who follow in his steps.

Visually, Ukes are a ubiquitous presence in music shops from Kamloops to Belfast.

“Uke and Me” is a story we can all relate to. Yes Virginia, there are alternatives to the endless stream of digital games, sports betting, and identity politics. What if everyone, and I do mean everyone, could simply pick up a Ukulele, strum a few bars—and be satisfied. It’s a fantasy for sure, but . . . there are more stupid ideas out there. (Check out my next blog.) The music of this uncomplicated instrument makes me smile—what about you, faithful reader?

Thank you Linnea for what you offer our community, in so many ways. Keep the strummin’ comin’.

PS A note to Air Canada. Despite your recent announcement about discontinuing service to Penticton, please re-consider. One does wonder if the issue is not pilot shortage but profitability. Thank you