Beating a Drum (We call it hacking.)

[Melody <Malady579@hotmail.com>]

I wrote:
>Not that I am complaining.  Ever since I was eleven, they let me beat
>a drum while tromping all over their muddy fields during halftime, so
>my life has been good.


Annemehr chided:
> Oh, so you're in the *percussion* section!
>
> Now I understand you! ;)


Ha.  Ha.

Yes, I am a percussionist and proud of it.  We could get away with
more.  Nothing like playing a piece where you have to count 45
measures of rest, hit two dings on a triangle, and resume relaxing
back behind the percussion cabinet coloring till the piece is over.
Though, we could also have the joy in some musical works of running
about the place hitting on everything.  Which is always fun.  I
remember this one where I had to play the bass drum, run from one side
of the stage to the other, play a fast xylophone lick, twirl around to
catch the gong mallet, and hit it square hard from the momentum.

diga diga, **DONG**.

::Sigh::

Gosh, I miss it.

I lost everyone there in drummer speak, didn't I?  :)

And, thank you Annemehr for not calling me a drummer.  While the term
is generally not offensive, it can be taken so in wonderful world of
musical talent.


> Annemehr
> who used to play the clarinet, but that was because her dad wouldn't
> let her play the trombone...

Now, now.  My dad is a trombone player.  It is a noble instrument.
Now, the odd sort of people that play it well....let's say my dad's
fellow trombone playing friends were...their own breed.  But of course
my dad is perfectly normal, thank you very much.  ;)


Melody
and Annemehr you should know my last name, so you should get the
bigger joke in my choosing to be a percussionist.