Kona

Konablaster

The Konablaster is a steel-string solidbody electric uke. This is one pretty machine. Even the tuning pegs are pretty. It's so pretty it should be called the Muhammed Ali Blaster. Maybe I will call it that, you don't know. No one could stop me, except, probably, Muhammed Ali.

The Konablaster's pickup is half of a Precision bass pickup. Its solid body features a shiny aqua blue reflective covering that will undoubtedly receive due attention in the course of some future drug trip. (Note to self: Be sure and bring the Kona to Burning Man.)

I like the way the maple neck curves at the top.

The most notable feature of the Konablaster is its bridge, which consists of a nickel-plated 30.06 shell. The bullet and main charge have been removed but there was a recall because the maker neglected to detonate or remove the cartridge's primer charge before installing it as the bridge on what, in some hands, can wind up being a fairly percussive musical instrument. Supposedly the trouble was discovered when some poor soul went to solder a whammy bar onto the instrument, unintentionally activating the Konablaster's blaster component. ("Blaster? Damn near killed her!")

But I'm not too worried; I don't plan on doing any soldering on it, so if the primer were to ignite somehow—say, during a moment of particularly blazing strum action—most likely it would just harmlessly blow a hole in my thigh.

One downside to this is that it may someday cause the Konablaster to fall under the jurisdiction of the ATF.

If so, I'll just slip "underground" with my "axe."
(Note to ATF: axe is used here metaphorically.)
(Addendum to ATF: Underground is not used metaphorically. I am not above playing my combustible ukulele in a subterranean hideout, if only to prove a point.)

The back and sides of the Konablaster are covered in the felt-like carpet you often find encasing stage amps. But in this case it's less for protection than to keep the uke from slipping when you're playing it while standing.

Personally, I prefer to remain seated and obey all signs when playing the Konablaster, not because it's too heavy but because I'd rather blow a hole in my thigh than in my not-thigh, if you get what I mean.

I had to look up Allen Woody to find out he was one of the bassists for the Allman Brothers Band—like Woody Allen, minus the being in the Allman Brothers Band and the deal with the incest. I'd rather have a Roy Wood signature, myself. Even Evelyn Wood would be preferable (and might even help me to play faster).

You may remember 640 as the number of acres in a square mile, or as the year the Arabs sacked Alexandria, or as the dial location of the Los Angeles AM radio station that carried the Dodger games when I was a kid. But from now on you will remember 640 as the serial number of my Konablaster. (Please do, because I may need to call you as a witness if someone ever steals it.)

Yes! The Konablaster is Made in Michigan, a feature that makes possible the convenient use of one's right hand to describe where the Konablaster is made. Man, these guys thought of everything.

(What'll they think of next? Putting artistic renderings of their manufacturing plant on the side? Making their ukulele bridges non-explosive? The mind reels at the possibilities.)