It's approaching a year's time since I've played the drums...
last time was October 31, 2009... Halloween night... at The Inn...
in Newtown, CT... where Rob passed out on us.
I'm still of two minds about this dillema.
Part of me sorely misses playing.
Another part of me gives a sigh of relief at not having to play anymore.
It's really a combination of physical condition and drug interaction.
I am seriously thinking about learning another instrument... cello, maybe.
I've always loved the mellow sound of that instrument...
AND, my grandson is studying the cello at school...
perhaps we could collaborate.
I only know that music is therapy to the aging... and I don't want to
give up on myself.
Wisdom from an unexpected source...
Phil Collins, in a short interview with The New York Times:
TIMES: "A couple of years ago, you suffered some
damage to your left arm and hand, because of a
neurological problem, and you're left handed."
COLLINS: "At my age, things start wearing out.
While I was doing the record, I had to tape the sticks
to my hand. Gaffer tape."
TIMES: "I wouldn't think you would have good control,
using taped-on sticks."
COLLINS: "I didn't. I can't play anything near like I used to,
and I was a hot drummer. It doesn't bother me, because,
frankly , if you get to that point where you can't hold a drumstick
properly, there are many other things in life which are far more
important, like cutting a loaf of bread or a piece of cheese.
When I do those things, I have to issue a warning -- stand back!
Everybody leaves the room. I don't care about the music as much."