On a brisk first day of spring, I was able to rejoin our reconstituted drum circe. They have met two Mondays already – but today was the first day I could go. Roldan is right – it is very good therapy for a Monday-back-t0-workaday-life.
It was a bit chilly and just barely warm enough in our somewhat temporary quarters on the patio at the East End Cafe. We have unofficial permission to be there – just until someone complains. If someone does, we are outta there. The Cafe is hesitant to give us official permission until it is warmer for logic that makes sense only to them. Warm weather -more beer guzzling patrons on the porch – already rowdy ??? I dunno.
It was a feast on many levels, and fingers stayed warm as long as the rhythm was working. No loungers tonight – the dilettante drummer who is there, but just barely. Just us – who need to eat of this experience on a regular basis. Roldan-Duane-Tony-me-and NewGuy or hence he will be called until I pick up on his name. Crazy Roldan and Duane were drinking cold dark beer out there where we could see every breath. I had a mug of Irish coffee that could do dual duty – handwarmer or heartwarmer – whichever.
There is talk of Sunday drumming again in Wilmington when the weather is warmer.
I collected some phone numbers and Roldan did a double take. On the top of the page for U-V-W was my late friend Sylvester Urquhart’s name and number. Turns out Sylvester was a friend to us both for the last 10 years of his life, but until last fall Roldan and I had never met. I treasure the print of Sylvesters “The King” that is framed in my hall. Like Gibby Perry, he is one who taught me many things. We were both strugging with giving ourselves permission to be our artist self when Sylvester and I first met now nearly 20 years ago. I am reminded that I need to use this gift of mine for a longer life than his to good purpose.