It showed up on my doorstep. Literally.
A blue grey suitcase with its condition belying 30+ years spent toting travel necessities on land and air. This little Samsonite’s latest excursion, though, had taken it from Phoenix (Arizona) to Paradise (California) in a class far lower than coach: try UPS Ground.
The suitcase, one we might have called an “overnighter” in days prior to wheeled rollaboards, sat stoutly just at the front door of our office as I returned from a lunch visit to the nearby taco truck.
I squealed at its sight—I knew what the blue grey valise held: an ukulele lovingly sent to me by my Uncle Harry, because, as he said, he knew I’d appreciate it and give it a good home.