"Why do I always end up next to the damn drum?"
He blows a few more notes, squelching the need to cover his ears. The signal comes for him to take a solo, a short one because revelers have short attention spans.
As he plays, he looks down at the open instrument cases. He tries to take a fast count of the money collecting in the banged up receptacles but there's too much movement. When his solo ends, no one notices.
He keeps playing, backing another's riff. As the musical notes slide into each other, his eyes shift to the right and he sees his wife and children. They're all looking at him, clapping to the beat and smiling.
"I will get us out of this hell hole," he vows. "I will make them smile even more."
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
~Damn Drum by Cynthia~
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2 comments:
Carnival lends itself well to amateur musicians. Skill is not nearly as important as the desire to entertain. This is why the streets are inundated with part-time horn players around this time of year. A few dozen men will wipe the dust off of their neglected instruments and polish the shiny surface until it looks like a mirror.
So long as these sorts don't try to show off or perform beyond their abilities, none of us mind all that much. We're happy for all to participate in the spectacle.
Inevitably around 1 am, a group of intoxicated-for-the-first-time teenagers dance and cavort with the rest of the merry makers. Some last longer than others. Some are prime examples of the time-honored turn of phrase "sick drunk". Some will wake up with hangovers tomorrow morning, but at this moment all are euphoric.
"Why do I always end up next to the damn drum?"
He blows a few more notes, squelching the need to cover his ears. The signal comes for him to take a solo, a short one because revelers have short attention spans.
As he plays, he looks down at the open instrument cases. He tries to take a fast count of the money collecting in the banged up receptacles but there's too much movement. When his solo ends, no one notices.
He keeps playing, backing another's riff. As the musical notes slide into each other, his eyes shift to the right and he sees his wife and children. They're all looking at him, clapping to the beat and smiling.
"I will get us out of this hell hole," he vows. "I will make them smile even more."
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