It's hot here. Very hot. I have the fan trying to blow cool(-er) air from outside into my little flat, and I have just spent a happy 20 minutes bashing seven bells of shit out of my drum kit, failing miserably to keep up with Van Halen. But hell, it was fun. I have a blister on my thumb now (I know) and I am as sweaty as hell.
But it was fun.
I am hideously and embarrassingly worse than I used to be. Perhaps I have lost my sense of rhythm. Perhaps I have overestimated my ability to pick it straight back up, perhaps everyone was just being over nice to me when I used to play, although that is unlikely, as I've always had pretty - ie brutally - honest friends. I mean, I know I wasn't necessarily any good as such, but I was pretty sure I could actually play. I think I have isolated the main issue at present* and have come up with a decent and logical plan** to address the issue. The only barrier is that when I come home from work, I am usually knackered and need to eat and sleep and go back to work. This leaves little in the way of regular learning and practicing time. I must make some, I think. The idea of this expensive (and gorgeous) drum kit sitting here getting dusty is bothering me enough that I will do something. Mind you, I've had it since February, and I've spent something like 7 hours at the most on them since then, as I've hardly been here.
From somewhere, deep down, in unchartered territory.... is some drive. I think I will see if I can dig it out.
*I'm shit
**learn how to play them again
This is an old chat screenshot that I found kicking around a while ago. I kept it because it amused me.
I think this pretty much encapsulates a fair part of the reason that Sarah and I get on. Our chats are often more of the same - We have relatively deep and sensible conversations, with stupidity in between that doesn't seem to detract from the content.Well. more accurately, it's normally her having a proper conversation and me being a dick, with her still finding the shite I type amusing, while refusing to be distracted from the point she is making.
If there were awards for tolerance...
