Here’s a little heartwarming tale for everyone on a rainy kind of Tuesday.
I recently did a tour of the maritimes with a great guy named David Myles, and while I was there I obviously needed some drums to play. My good friend and supremely talented drummer Jordi Comstock graciously lent me a beautiful vintage kit that I loved to pieces, and had a great time playing.
What knocked me out especially was the snare drum. 14 inches around and 6 inches deep of good times and sweet old sounds. Now, for those unaware, a good snare drum to most drummer is the equivalent of -
- a type writer to a novelist
- scissors to a hairstylist
- butter to popcorn
You get it. At the end of the tour, I made various attempts to bribe, maim, hypnotize, and generally cajole Jordi into selling me the snare. No dice, he was hanging on to it. Fair enough, it’s beautiful.
Cut to present day, June 10th, approx. 2:35 pm. I come home, Jordi’s snare is in a box on my porch in Toronto. He GAVE it to me. No money, just wanted it to go to someone who was going to play it and love it. So, here’s a public thank you to him, and to my dad who shipped it here better then the UPS could ever pack anything in their entire history of operations.
here’s to wonderful people out there doing great things just because.
I actually immediately played it, literally. I ran downstairs and freaked out.