Hmuhnah hmuhnah, Dear Reader,
How shall I begin?
Somewhere in the middle...
About the Contractions...
I was introduced to Debbie the drummer by a musical matchmaker. I was tired of acoustic coffee house/neighborhood bar music-making. By very good luck I had acquired a Cordovox, a little mini-Leslie speaker/amplifier, the kind of speaker that rotates to make a mechanical chorus sound, usually found on Hammond B3 organs. I had a 12 string acoustic which I stuck a pickup into ("into which I stuck a pickup "- Cranky Antiquarian Grammarian) that I would play through the Cordovox.
All these "I hads"... I HAD a well paying job, from which I HAD the money to buy instruments and pay for the music lessons I HAD. With money left for extraextracurricular activities. (see Fun with Clamps, a working title. my autobiography, unfinished, unstarted)
Debbie was way experienced musically, though I do remember that she was working on her kit rolls, I mean playing all the toms with many strokes and still coming out on the downbeat. I will always cherish the memory of her stuffed into a little closet under a staircase in her flat on Sanchez, banging away until she got it.
So that memorable day I set up my Rube Goldberg rig, and we began to jam.