The Dreaded 4-Finger Roll

What I’m playing on my new toy—the 1920’s era banjolele! (With thanks to my Sweetie. What can I say? I have a great wife! See The One That Got Away)

Big Bad Bill by Milton Ager and Jack Yellen

When you hear really good ukulele players, you will often hear a rapid da-da-da-DUM strum before certain measures of music. This is commonly known as the 4-Finger Roll, where the player flicks his or her right hand fingers in quick succession, making a sound similar to a drum roll. The players of the 1920s, particularly Cliff “Ukulele Ike” Edwards, had the 4-Finger Roll down to a science and used it extensively.

It seems to be a stroke that is endemic to the ukulele. Other plectrum instruments—guitar, banjo, mandolin and the like—don’t seem to use it, but you do hear something of the sort from flamenco guitar. Considering that the ukulele is derived from the machete, cavaquinho and rajao, brought to the Hawaiian Islands by the Portuguese, I suppose it makes sense that Latin techniques would become part of the ukulele landscape.

However it made its way to the ukulele, it sounds really neat.

There are 2 ways to do a 4-Finger Roll—forwards and backwards. The forward way is the one Cliff Edwards used with 1-2-3-4, holding back each finger with your thumb. The backwards way—which, I believe, is the more traditional flamenco way, is to do the same, but with 4-3-2-1. Done correctly, you get a nice, even triplet before the beat. Sounds simple, doesn’t it?

Well, it isn’t.

Most of my attempts result in da-da-THUD, sometimes da-THUD or even just THUD. Like a good musician, I’ve been practicing it slowly:

da——–da——–da——-DUM

Speeding it up…

da—–da—–da—–DUM

da—-da—-da—-DUM

da—da—da—DUM

da–da–da–DUM

da-da-THUD!

I know what you’re thinking.

It’s been 306 words and he hasn’t mentioned the word “Aspergers,” “Aspie” or any other form of autism. Well that’s where you’re wrong. This is Asperger’s Ukulele, after all and I’m not one to disappoint.

You see, within an Aspie’s Special Interest there are little Special Interests contained within! It’s sort of like the finding prize in each specially marked box of Quisp, and it’s every bit as disappointing and irritating as your average cereal box plastic decoder ring (and if you get that reference, you’ve seriously dated yourself).

For me the 4-Finger Roll is my Special Interest within the Special Interest! Not only can’t I quite seem to get the 4-Finger Roll right, but I find myself practicing it on every animate and inanimate object I can get away with. So far, my wife and son have been spared but I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

My right thigh has been the most repeated, egregious victim of my 4-Finger obsession, as has the steering wheel of my car. I’ve been doing a lot of freelance playing this summer, which has kept me stuck in LA traffic for many, many long hours. How do I keep my self-occupied (in addition to trying not to run into the car in front of me)?

Both hands on the steering wheel at 2:00 and 10:00, and…

da-da-da-DUM!

da-da-da-DUM!

da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM! da-da-da-DUM!

Sally, Ann and the Theory of Mind

What I’m playing on the FABULOUS baritone ukulele right now (thanks again, Lisa!):

Palms of Paradise by Frank Loesser and Fredrick Hollander

Consider the following:

What is your first response to the question “Where will Sally look for the ball?”

Most people will say that Sally should look in the basket for the ball, since that’s where she put it and where she would expect to see it. My first response is that Sally should look for the ball in the box, since that is where Ann put it. This is because I have a poor Theory of Mind, one of the hallmarks of autism spectrum disorders such as Asperger’s syndrome.

The Oxford Companion to the Body describes Theory of Mind as thus:

‘Theory of mind’ is a catch-phrase in contemporary psychology, referring to a universal human tendency to attribute mental states (feelings, beliefs, intentions, attitudes) to oneself and to others. ‘Mentalizing’ has much the same meaning. Mental states are used to explain and predict other people’s behaviour intuitively — as if guided by a theory about the nature of mind.

Imagine you are watching a movie. ‘Why did the detective duck into the doorway? Because he thought he was being followed.’ This explanation holds even if the detective was not actually followed by anybody. What counts is that he believed he was being followed, and this determined his behaviour. Belief is more significant than reality. It is vitally important not to confuse mental states and physical states. To achieve this, the human brain is equipped with a mechanism that represents mental states in a special way. The underlying mechanism is likely to have an innate basis, which explains why social learning early in life is both rapid and universal.

Where those of us on the autism spectrum tend to get tripped up is in the difficulty or inability to put ourselves in another’s head to easily understand their emotions or intentions. While this sounds simple, having a poor Theory of Mind has ripple effects that permeate our dealings with everybody, whether it’s loved ones, a colleague or a barista at Starbuck’s.

This is what makes an Aspie chronically misread social situations. It’s hard to know when to stop talking about ukulele music of the 1920s when you’re completely unable to read the faces of the people around you. Boredom simply doesn’t register.

In addition to seeming to be self-centered and just generally clueless, it makes understanding what is going on in a given social situation very difficult to comprehend, such as knowing when to speak, what topics are off limits, sarcasm, or how we are being perceived.

Some of us are lucky enough to have developed work-arounds that allow us to usually be able to function somewhat normally. It’s hard, exhausting work and takes constant monitoring of what we think would be appropriate to say or do. Still, it does give a person a unique view of life.

And an obsessive love of the ukulele.

So how do you deal with a person with a poor Theory of Mind? Be patient and don’t assume we understand what is going on. Just take us as we are, warts and all, and realize that we probably didn’t mean to do or say whatever may have offended you.