These days, plenty of people are pointing to signs of the End Times.

As one doomsayer site puts it, "Prophecy is being fulfilled daily, and at a faster pace than ever before."

Of course, the apocalypse watchers are all about the nasty stuff: antichrist sightings, plagues of frogs, wailing and gnashing of teeth and all that. So I wonder what they'd make of the Ukulele Streetcar?

This is no vision: there really is a Ukulele Streetcar. Or at least there was. It was sighted by at least several hundred people in Toronto's downtown core, last evening between the hours of 8 and 11 PM. A vintage PCC car in the classic yellow-and-maroon colour scheme made its way through the city centre, from the Dominion on Queen to Mitzi's Sister and back. Aboard were 43 ukulele players, a small sound system, and a very friendly and accommodating driver by the name of Steve.

Watch the ukers board the streetcar and meet Steve the driver

The ukers -yours truly among them- were all members of the Corktown Ukulele Jam. We're all a little crazy, I admit. You'd have to be, to charter a streetcar for the purpose of playing ukulele aboard. But these are crazy times: there's more epochal behaviour going on these days than there was in the time of Y2K. And the cheerful fad that is Ukulele 3.0 proves at least some of it is celebratory.

Those 43 people strumming and singing and grinning like fools are actually anything but foolish. When was the last time you did something cheap, harmless and happy with a few dozen friendly strangers? We do it every week and we know how good it feels. Last night we took it to the streets so the outside world might taste the joy.

Watch us do "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight" as the streetcar passes Canoe

If there was one thing more beautiful than the shining faces of our group, it was the appreciation of ordinary people in the streets: jaws dropping, eyes popping, hands clapping, cameras flashing. Hey, you don't see a Ukulele Streetcar every day. But it's not hard to interpret what it means when you do.

I mean, suppose you're just coming home from your job in an office tower at King and Bay, carrying your briefcase, sweating in your suit, checking your watch, dodging the crowds as you prepare to brave the big highway on your way home to snatch a few moments with your family. You're completely absorbed in your own issues. And then suddenly, you hear what sounds like a chorus of people singing a Monty Python song. What the...? You look up, and what do you see? There at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn, is an old-fashioned Red Rocket, packed with ukulele players, singing "Eric the Half a Bee!" And they're all having the time of their lives.

Wouldn't you be bound to conclude it's time to have the time of your life too? I like to think so. Because if that's the case, then several hundred people we'll never meet or even see again will have reason to remember the brief moment when the Ukulele Streetcar crossed their line of vision last night.

If something so crazy, so random, so completely without precedent can appear on an ordinary Wednesday night in the heart of the city, and bring so many smiles to so many people... isn't that a sign of hope, that we may be entering a time of random acts of whimsy and expressions of unbridled gladness?

I believe so. And I hope the people who watch for signs of the times to come are keeping track of the happy ones. Attention, millenarians: there was a confirmed Ukulele Streetcar sighting in Toronto.

This bodes well!

Check out Margaret Mulligan's amazing medium-format photos of Ukulele Streetcar on Flickr.