John Gibson: Takes a lot of pluck to play the uke

My claim to fame. I am life-president of the Wallyford branch of the George Formby Fan Club, so I'm dead chuffed at the news from the Musical Instrument Retail Conference in London that the ukelele is making a significant comeback.

Sales of the four-string mini-guitar are rising faster than any other instrument in the UK. Costs 20. Easy to learn. How long do you think it took George Benson to pick up the intricacies of the uke after somebody slapped one in his hands?

There are more than 100 ukelele clubs (including the thriving Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain with gigs galore) across the nation. But none in Edinburgh.

If you happen to have a copy of Formby's With Me Little Ukelele in Me Hand propping up your granny's aspidistra, hang on to it. It could be worth a fortune.

Leaf it out

I TALK to the trees. But they don't listen to me. Have done for years and I still can't get a word out of them. The trees in Leith Links and the Meadows. Not a cheep. Whispering grass? Another waste of time.

And all this tosh about talking to plants. Now Alan Titchmarsh is telling us it doesn't make a ha'p'orth of difference and what Titch says goes. So I've chucked out Stevie Wonder's Secret Life of Plants album in disgust.

Afterwords . .

. . . from Harrison Ford, hardly the talkative type, near reclusive, but ever ready to blab when he's got a new film: "I'm a Midwesterner. We don't talk about religion, politics, or how much money we make. But I'm on record as saying I had a Jewish mother, a Catholic father and I was raised Democrat. I don't think that what we have now is so much politics as it is merchandising." At least he's owning up.