My first love for the drum goes back to my childhood. Like most kids, I played on pots, pans, and anything else that would make a noise. In 7th grade I tried playing the snare drum with the band and I loved it. The problem was that being in the band took way too much of my outside time and I really didn’t want to put forth the effort that it required to learn to play the drum.
I also had a friend, Larry, who was into drumming. He had a really nice set of kit drums and I would go to his house periodically and he would show me some of the basics for playing. That also was not working for me. Although I enjoyed playing around on the drums, I could not focus on what it took to be a musician. In my teens, I was more interested in motorcycles, not learning to read music and practicing every day.
For those that know me well they also know most of the time I wander around like a lost puppy looking for something to get into. After a while, I get bored and I am off in search of something else.
Then, in my 40’s, I learned about hand drums. While living in St. Petersburg, FL, Judy and I were wandering around in a Pier One Import store. In a corner sat some African gourd drums. I began to look them over and they had a pretty hefty price tag on them. The clerk said they were really not made for playing but more for decoration in the home. I pondered this a bit and then I tapped one of them. I liked the way it sounded. I picked the drum up to take a better look. As I scanned over the drum there were many scratches all along the side and when you got to the bottom of the drum there was a piece missing from the base of the drum. I knew I wanted this drum. After some discussion with Judy on how much money I could spend, I asked the clerk what was the best he could do on the price of the drum. “What are they marked at?” he asked. I told him and he said that was the best he could do. I then pointed out all the dings and the big piece missing from the bottom. Of course, at this point, the manager had to be involved and after some conversation we managed to reach a price agreement on the drum. I took the drum home and played and played and played and played and played. I wasn’t playing tunes or rhythms, but I felt like I was a kid again banging on the pots and pans. It felt so good.
Judy began looking for a local drum circle in the area and read about a student doing a college project to bring the community together. This project was a drum circle on the beach in Treasure Island. We decided to check it out and had a wonderful experience. There were elderly people playing small gongs and small children shaking coffee cans filled with stones and everyone was smiling. There was something about being on the beach surrounded by happy people playing drums that made me feel joyful inside. I believe it was this drum circle experience that made me realize that drumming would become a way of life for me.
Each time we went to this weekly drum circle, the more I was consumed by the experience as a whole. Something about this type of drumming went beyond any attention span and put me in a place that calmed me completely. I would play that Pier One drum constantly, never realizing how hard I was hitting, until one day as I was playing at the drum circle and we had completed our set I picked up the drum and a piece of the already busted bottom fell off. I still have that first drum and play it, carefully nowadays, when it calls to me. Drums have come into my life and created something that allows me to shut myself down from all the stress that goes with everyday life.
I also had a friend, Larry, who was into drumming. He had a really nice set of kit drums and I would go to his house periodically and he would show me some of the basics for playing. That also was not working for me. Although I enjoyed playing around on the drums, I could not focus on what it took to be a musician. In my teens, I was more interested in motorcycles, not learning to read music and practicing every day.
For those that know me well they also know most of the time I wander around like a lost puppy looking for something to get into. After a while, I get bored and I am off in search of something else.
Then, in my 40’s, I learned about hand drums. While living in St. Petersburg, FL, Judy and I were wandering around in a Pier One Import store. In a corner sat some African gourd drums. I began to look them over and they had a pretty hefty price tag on them. The clerk said they were really not made for playing but more for decoration in the home. I pondered this a bit and then I tapped one of them. I liked the way it sounded. I picked the drum up to take a better look. As I scanned over the drum there were many scratches all along the side and when you got to the bottom of the drum there was a piece missing from the base of the drum. I knew I wanted this drum. After some discussion with Judy on how much money I could spend, I asked the clerk what was the best he could do on the price of the drum. “What are they marked at?” he asked. I told him and he said that was the best he could do. I then pointed out all the dings and the big piece missing from the bottom. Of course, at this point, the manager had to be involved and after some conversation we managed to reach a price agreement on the drum. I took the drum home and played and played and played and played and played. I wasn’t playing tunes or rhythms, but I felt like I was a kid again banging on the pots and pans. It felt so good.
Judy began looking for a local drum circle in the area and read about a student doing a college project to bring the community together. This project was a drum circle on the beach in Treasure Island. We decided to check it out and had a wonderful experience. There were elderly people playing small gongs and small children shaking coffee cans filled with stones and everyone was smiling. There was something about being on the beach surrounded by happy people playing drums that made me feel joyful inside. I believe it was this drum circle experience that made me realize that drumming would become a way of life for me.
Each time we went to this weekly drum circle, the more I was consumed by the experience as a whole. Something about this type of drumming went beyond any attention span and put me in a place that calmed me completely. I would play that Pier One drum constantly, never realizing how hard I was hitting, until one day as I was playing at the drum circle and we had completed our set I picked up the drum and a piece of the already busted bottom fell off. I still have that first drum and play it, carefully nowadays, when it calls to me. Drums have come into my life and created something that allows me to shut myself down from all the stress that goes with everyday life.
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