Anyone who knows about me and music would probably picture something like this image. Backstage at the legendary Caffe Lena in Saratoga Springs, circa 1995ish. Which explains the hair-do. (My bad hair aside, I loved the Lena. Played there bookoo between 95 and 99...alone a handful of times, opened for the late great Odetta there, and of course Camp Hoboken.)But this year, when I say "We're getting the band back together," it ain't folkie, and I don't have to change any guitar strings. Long before I hopped the decade-long endless Greyhound Bus trip in search of Woody Guthrie, I played drums in Hypothermia (named for the cold loft where we practiced), our high school cover band (our being: me, Gregg Cagno, Karl Dietel, Matt Angus Williams, and Mike Slaven, plus others who came and went). And Matt called a few months ago to say those very words: we're putting the band back together. Mission from God. For one night, anyway. The Friday night after Thanksgiving, this coming November. Problem is, I haven't played drums in 20+ years, I didn't play particularly well even when I was playing regularly, and I don't have a drum set. Well, I can't fix the first two problems, but we got the third one licked. Fiona and I drove up to Chez Angus a few weeks ago and picked up a 5-piece he's loaning us for the summer. And so...I started test driving.
Lordy, how my neighbors love me! They just can't get enough. Fiona's digging in, too...see below. One thing I had forgotten: how truly satisfying it is to bang the shit out of drums after a long day. I may not BE good, but I FEEL good.
