RogerSling - Probably one of the 60+ guys with Parkinsons! Hurting LOL BTW, you claim not be entertained by the thread, but you've managed to conjure up a conspiracy theory connected to it rivaled in depth and complexity only by the Kennedy assassination!
Here's a little background on me I promised earlier:
My drum fever started when I was 12. I tore up the seats on my mom's kitchen set (vinyl seat chairs) with a pair of 2B's somebody had given to me until she finally made peace with the fact that my drumming wasn't going to be a passing fad. She was the one who convinced my old man to buy me some drums. My first kit was a WMP Kent kit that I sold one year later so I could buy some Ludwigs. Wish I still had both those kits!
When I was 14 I made friends with a guy who was one of Bobby Columby's ace students. (Bobby was the drummer who created the first fusion band, Blood, Sweat & Tears) and Lou (my buddy) taught me everything he was getting from Bobby. From age 16 I started playing with various local musicians (Manhattan) all of which were much older than I was. At 16, I was gigging in clubs and bars three/four times a week. School suffered, but I was making almost as much money as my father did on his full time job and the moola was addicting. Because of the heavy playing schedule, I got pretty good, real fast and I got invited to be a session drummer at Ben-Gor Studios when I was only 17. I got to do sub-gigs with bands like the Lovin' Spoonful and the Blues Magoo's (the older fahrts will know who the bands are that I'm talking about) and for awhile there I was well on my way to a career as a busy on-call fill-in and session drummer. The phone used to jump off the hook sometimes at home with calls for work.
The $ eventually proved too much for me to handle and I ended up messing with heroin. Rapidly I developed a reputation for showing up at gigs stoned, or late because I had to score before I could do the gig. The dope habit became bad quickly. I got a bad rep with the musicians I worked with and eventually the phone stopped ringing.
At 19 I moved into Phoenix House (rehab) for almost two years, but I got cleaned up and straight and that program literally saved my life. I met my wife, got married and eventually had two kids. Music became secondary to working hard to support my little family. After a four year lay-off from playing I got a call out of the blue from an old associate and I started playing in his wedding band on week-ends. I have always kept a hand in all throughout my life. Rock bands, Blues bands, one fusion group I played in, but always kept playing on week-ends and doing gigs whenever they came up. When they fold my hands to bury me, I want them to put a set of sticks in my hands before they close the box. I don't think I can go a day without picking up a set of sticks and banging away on my drums or a pad or a pillow. I've been a drummer all my life and I plan to play until I can't play any more.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
John
PS - I'll have to check back several hundred times to make sure this post is still here! LMAO J
