Drum Dream
By ice rivers
- 622 reads
Music was my final merit badge.
I decided that my attempt to trail the Eagle was running out of enthusiasm.
I quit Boy Scouts the same day that I quit the clarinet. I didn't plan the syncopation, it just sort of worked out that way.
I stuck with Dylan and the dream of drums.
Kenndy got shot and the Beatles arrived.
I went on to college. One night I was playing ping pong in the basement of Blake Hall when a guy named Eddie started to play some boogie-woogie on the piano. I started tapping and banglng and slapping the top of the piano and before long everybody had stopped ping ponging and started listening to Eddie's boogie and my woogie. We went on for about 10 minutes and when we stopped everybody started clapping.
Eddie asked me if I played the drums, I thought back to my bongo session with Krell and said " I do."
Eddie's roommate Bob had a great album collection. Albums had come a long way, baby. I spent most of my time in Eddie's room, listening to music, learning who was doing what in each group. I knew the name of all the drummers and the bass players. Bob was learning how to play the guitar. He had a burning desire. We were learning to play popular songs by ear. I discovered that I had a pretty good ear for music as did Eddie and Bob. We'd listen to an album and figure things out.
Bob started taking guitar lessons from a local kid named Ronnie. Ronnie and Bob learned how to play along with the boogie woogie that Eddie and I had come up with. We decided to enter a talent contest and play that number. I still didn't have any drums other than the dream of drums but Bob had some bongos. We got up on the stage. I wasn't scared a bit. I was having fun. I was "playing" for Christ sake.
Before we were finished, everybody was dancing and clapping and when we finished, they wanted more and so did we.
Like Krell had said, I wasn't a musician but I might be a drummer.
I remember when Krell said I wouldn't be a musician but might be a drummer, I asked him if drummers weren't musicians. He asked me if my school orchestra had a drummer. I said no. He said drummers are drummers.
After the show, I started to be recognized on campus by people I didn't know. My hair was already pretty long but it wasn't long enough for me. My hair caused me some major problems in my classrooms but that was just part of the price some of us had to pay as we began to separate and change.
Pretty soon, people started asking us if we were a "band".
We lied. We said we were. Then we left school for the summer.
We'd be back.
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Comments
Drummers are drummers.
Drummers are drummers.
Writers are writers.
Write more.
I'm enjoying this.
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