All of the men that have ever existed on God’s green earth are drummers.

All of them.

Generally, this is a fine thing as there is plenty on God’s green earth for all of them to pound.

But individually, unless we do some sorting, we’ll either go bananas or end up with blueberries

if our hearts are really craving passionfruit.

Ba-boom-boom-boom, Ba-boom-boom-boom

Some can heroically carry Lady Rhythm across the threshold to safety in their strong arms.

But only when the room is already on fire and she counts them in.

And a 1 and a 2 and little to the left…

It’s important to have those among us who are willing to enter burning buildings for the

Greater Good, but you’ve got to keep setting yourself on fire for them to show up.

Bananas. Ba-boom-boom, Ba-boom-boom-boom.

Some will woo as exceptional orators, giving dissertations on exotic instruments

from far-away lands, happy to explore all kinds of new positions for rhythm structure.

Djembe! Thammattama! Guataca! Repinique! What was your name again, darlin’?

It’s important to have those among us who are willing to passionately postulate for the

Greater Good, but despite strong thesis statements, they don’t usually hold up to peer review.

Blueberries. Ba-boom-boom, Ba-boom-boom-boom.

Some only ever play to stadiums, and when the beats that made them famous

- real or imagined -

in their youth jam out of the radio,

every soft surface of your body becomes a part of their drum set.

It’s important to have those among us who are willing to turn a steering wheel

and repose thigh into a full kit for the Greater Good

because this is one of the ways they will communicate that

there is no one else they’d rather share the spotlight with than you.

 Passionfruit. Ba-boom-boom, Ba-boom-boom-boom