Since the age of 4 drums has always held a fascination for me. So much so that I made a bid for a antique set of kettledrums at Pacheco's auction. "Goin, goin gone... sold to the kiddo for 400 bucks ... oops !"
Banned by a mum who didn't want to hear that awful kettle pot. It was slowly relegated to a back shelf of 43 things (and statistically numerically increasing things) to do.
After a month of being self expelled from the nest, I decided to pursue that noble calling called the art of Drums.
10 weeks of training and I wield the short maple blades with the dexterity of the 4 year old born to play the drums.
The first show ahead a motley ensemble gathers. Whew... its a coalition of beginners, the cacophony is terrible. Asterix and Obelix, believe me you haven't heard anything yet. But slowly as the weeks progresses the musical nuances fall into place. Love songs actually begin to woo the heart, instead of just tormenting the ear drums and the soul. Motifs and structures seem to build themselves up like fairy castles in the air. Its happening.
And the cover is beginning to sound much better than the original. Amazing.
And we are having loads of fun to boot! Not fair... we are all working people. Shouldn't be enjoying ourselves this much. Life is full of interruptions. Some of them actually pleasant.
A week later shall be the promised show. Maybe I should buy my first leather outfit.
