If one read through my jazz posts one would feel I don't dig drummers. But I do. I do. But apparently not enough to give them shout outs.
When Chico Hamilton walked out onto the stage a couple years ago, I was wondering if he would be able to make it to his drum set. The man was well into his 80's and moving slow. But when he sat down behind the drums, the man was youthful. Not that he could drum as hard and fast as he could back in the day, but he sure could play. And he was enjoying himself, which is a requirement for playing:
Several years ago, Mosaic Woman (who did a great C about Canadian Content) bought me a drum for Christmas. One day I picked it up and said, "We need a lucky drum solo for..." It didn't happen often, but I continued the practice. Lately I have added it to my prayer practice. The drum sits next to the Chair of Contemplation and so at some point in my examen, I pick it up and said out some hope. And why not think of someone in need of hope and play a solo for them. Some of those vibes travel through my gut and keep going into the universe. I drum. I pray. I hope. It is one thing I can do for a friend, a town, a church, a country, a flock of migrating birds. If it was all that I did, it may not be enough, but it sure is a good start in getting God's attention.
Di--- I hoped you would!
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