Me & Drums & Me

I've been drumming since I can remember and yet I can't remember ever paying proper tribute to my drums. Drums; those rhythmical cats that have never let me down. Drums are what I do, drums are what I am. I've had tons of lame gigs where the pay sucked and the beer was warm but it was never the drums fault; it was the gig. I once played Whistler mountain way up some dang gondola and literally...or near literally froze my hide off. I had to hold onto my drums sticks like they were clubs-knuckles white, teeth chattering. But I loved it. UPS once warped the crap out of my bass drum but she kept on playin' without so much as a complaint. Rhythm is everything. I owe so much to rhythm and I'll never get close to paying her back. I can only hope that truly appreciating the gift that I have will suffice as payment-at least partially. Rhythm is everywhere: it's in our walk and in our talk, when two people have sex, especially good sex what is really running the show? Rhythm baby. Hell there's rhythm when three people have sex...but I suppose that's a poly-rhythm but a rhythm just the same. I love drums and they tolerate me. What puts your tired ass on the dance floor but rhythm, that boom, boom, boom, chaka, boom, boom, boom. Babies seize it. They are drawn to it before we are. Wait a minute my math is off. Maybe we lose it and then get it back...yeah it must be that.
I have fallen off my drum throne, got stick splinters in my fingers and forearms and have even got brass cymbal shrapnel in my mouth mid live show. And yet all of that was on me. I own it. The drums were not to blame. I quit playing once in high school because I thought I needed more time for my studies...of hot chicks. When I returned to the kit she was like the sea-not forgiving until I put the work in. And that's the way it ought to be. I love the drums and they think I'm o.k. and I'm o.k. with that.
I played the drums at my mother's funeral. I felt as though I played like crap yet many in attendance said they were moved, some to tears. They say between 2000 and 4000 people were at my mother's funeral. When all was said and done the local newspaper reported on everything that occurred that day except my rhythmical tribute. I was furious until I realized that my song was heard by SHE that was meant to hear it... to feel it. I miss my mother. I love my mother and I know she hears every note I play. I love my drums and together we'll keep everyone here on earth shakin', movin' and stirrin'. And MOM, tell Miles and Mingus to get ready. Ya better grab Ella too. Also have Jimmy plug that axe in as well because I'm going to send you some rhythms that'll have the Boss keepin' the party going past heaven's last call!!!