april in paris
Most of my life I've been a closet percussionist. And I'm just about ready to come out.
I think it started when I was real little. I had this Snoopy lunchbox--one of the metal ones--that I liked to beat on. Eventually I acquired a pair of drum sticks and was overjoyed at the rat-a-tat-tat noises--as arhythmic as I'm sure they were--that emerged when I pounded on the box's flat surface. My sister had a set of 4 variously-sized blocks, so I'd set these up all around me, place the lunch box in the middle, and pretend I had a drum set. This provided hours of entertainment for me and hours of headaches for my parents.
I'm sure this is why when it came time to join band and I wanted to play the drums, my folks said, "But the flute is such a nice [quiet] instrument. And all your friends are playing it...."
I didn't care about quiet, but in fifth grade you become aware of your social status, and your friends certainly rule (at least mine did), so I consented and got my grubby hands on a flute. Played it for years, moved to the sax, and the rest is history.
Until I married a drummer. Then I finally had a "real" drumset at my disposal. And I've been playing it...it's quite fun (see previous post outlining adentures in percussion exercises). Now we've added congas to the mix, and I'm excited to learn a few basic grooves so I can lug them with me to Panache and play a bit during the [drummerless] trio sessions. Jamie, the bass player, will love me for it and I'll feel as if I'm adding some substance to the performance when I'm not playing heads or soloing.
Lessons with my dear husband will begin shortly and I'll keep you posted on my progress. I promise I won't type if my hands are bruised and bleeding. Hmmm, maybe I don't know what I'm in for?
Later,
Conga Cassie
I think it started when I was real little. I had this Snoopy lunchbox--one of the metal ones--that I liked to beat on. Eventually I acquired a pair of drum sticks and was overjoyed at the rat-a-tat-tat noises--as arhythmic as I'm sure they were--that emerged when I pounded on the box's flat surface. My sister had a set of 4 variously-sized blocks, so I'd set these up all around me, place the lunch box in the middle, and pretend I had a drum set. This provided hours of entertainment for me and hours of headaches for my parents.
I'm sure this is why when it came time to join band and I wanted to play the drums, my folks said, "But the flute is such a nice [quiet] instrument. And all your friends are playing it...."
I didn't care about quiet, but in fifth grade you become aware of your social status, and your friends certainly rule (at least mine did), so I consented and got my grubby hands on a flute. Played it for years, moved to the sax, and the rest is history.
Until I married a drummer. Then I finally had a "real" drumset at my disposal. And I've been playing it...it's quite fun (see previous post outlining adentures in percussion exercises). Now we've added congas to the mix, and I'm excited to learn a few basic grooves so I can lug them with me to Panache and play a bit during the [drummerless] trio sessions. Jamie, the bass player, will love me for it and I'll feel as if I'm adding some substance to the performance when I'm not playing heads or soloing.
Lessons with my dear husband will begin shortly and I'll keep you posted on my progress. I promise I won't type if my hands are bruised and bleeding. Hmmm, maybe I don't know what I'm in for?
Later,
Conga Cassie
posted by jazzmom | 2:19 PM
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