paradiddle-diddle

I'm a big fan of Terry Bozzio. I remember my drum teacher talking clinic drummers and among the pepperings of studio timers lay dudes like Gadd, Figg, and Fagg. And then there was Bozzio. Missing Persons. Fucking great. Sick band, sick vocals, sick drummer. Whatever. I saw David Letterman's drummer, Anton Fig do a clinic at a music store in West Chester, PA. It wasn't West Chester Music. I forget what it was called. I'm sure he did a parradiddle or two. As a drummer, I realize it takes a long time to see that there are drummers with soul patches just like the harmonica players and flutists. Flute players, trying to play their soul patched way through a relationship with an otherwise complex woman. I want to be there to pick up the pieces of that failed relationship. Because, as a drummer who can connect to the burning desire of woman on a prehistoric level.... drums. Chicks dig drums. I haven't eaten fast food in six months. Is that good? Fuck off, man.