A little tip from the Pork Chop Express on a dark and stormy night..

   I have been working my tuchus off these past couple weeks.  Double after double after double.  Waiting tables for 14 hour days at Becco, training at the Breukelen Coffee House, slogging through slow nights at Pop Art Bar.  I haven't seen Chetta after sundown in two weeks. I tell myself I'm working so hard so we can get on top of expenses, no longer have to live paycheck to paycheck, and to hopefully eventually have free time available to make art for love (which may even attract money, meaning most time could be free time).
   How does one stay sane with this back-to-back-to-back work lifestyle?  When I find out, I'll let you know via tag you in a Facebook note.  Until then, though, I revel in the few minutes I can find to engage in my passion: on my breaks between doubles (ranging from a half- to two hours), or on a sparsely peopled subway train or platform, I pull out my Andante practice pad and Vic Firth 5As (which I carry in my bag wherever I go) and tap away to anything with a steady beat - my ipod, car alarm, or the second hand of a public clock.  Buying Stick Control For the Snare Drummer was probably one of the best decision I've ever made for music, and I've only progressed to halfway down the first half of the first page in the month I've owned it.
   I combat my vague fear of pissing any surrounding people off with incessant tappa-tappa-tappa by playing controlled pianississimo paradiddles and double-stroke rolls, shifting sticking around (RLRR LRLL, RLLR LRRL, RRLR LLRL and RR LL RR LL, LR RL LR RL, respectively).  I try to concentrate on how good playing makes me feel, to let it envelope me like an electric blanket (or a cool breeze, if it's a hot day).  I realize that every worry drips away from me when muscle memory takes over and I can rest comfortably in the space between the beats of the simplest rhythm.  I can't help but imagine a warm golden sunlight emanating from me, splashing invisible contentment on the walls of wherever I happen to be.  And no matter how dark and dank my surroundings or my mood, I have a feeling the contentment remains when I leave, maybe for someone else to enjoy.
   So I make the time.  Even with my nonstop work schedule of late, I've found dependable pockets of time that I can spend doing what I love to do and, more importantly, getting noticeably better at what I love to do.  Hopefully my talent will become valuable when paired with a good attitude, professionalism, well-placed contacts and a healthy dollop of luck.  Speaking of which, anybody know anybody who knows anybody who is wanting for a professional, easy-going, well-adjusted, talented percussionist for whom no gig is to small?  I might know a guy..