Once home I tried out my new drum. It's not really MY drum, it's a loaner. I went to the school's drum squad practice yesterday (Memorial Day Monday) with my little drum and learned a couple of beats. By the end of the practice I was longing for a real drum, a big drum with a real bass sound and the ringing high notes as well. Ask and ye shall receive. There is a drum available for anyone who wants to play in the drum squad and doesn't have a drum. Dr Barrett repeated several times that he is attached to the drum and that he wants it back, undamaged. I will do my damndest. I am so excited to have a real drum to play! I wish I could remember the other 3 beats that we practiced. Of the five I'm only remembering two. It's a start.
So I was on the porch, working through those two simple beats and a neighbor rode by on his yellow bike, circled round and rode up. I stopped playing. He apologized, he didn't mean to stop me. I explained that I'm a beginner. He said he has a jimbe and that he'll bring it over sometime. He wanted to know which door to knock on. His name is Scott. I was not sure that I wanted him to know where I live, but he does now. He was peering at my entranceway. Busted. I've been found out. I played drum on the porch and now he knows I'm here. He's young, and he thinks he's getting a job tomorrow. He's a potter, throws pots every day. He wants to go to arts & crafts school.
Tomorrow I have quizzes in pathology and immunology, so I am going to cover some material tonight before I sleep. No more posting. Good night all.
