Rhythm of the neighborhood

When we went to Morocco last September the one thing I was determined to come home with was a drum.

Well, I struggle to understand how almost an entire year has gone by since then, but I have got my money's worth and then some out of the little fish-skin topped instrument I brought back from Marrakesh.

Abdul hosts drum circles during the summer months at Mint Tea. I have no training, and no skills beyond a natural interest in and love for music. And really, that's all you need. We gather at 6:30 on, roughly speaking, the nights of the full moon. A bunch of folks from the neighborhood and beyond show up -- all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds -- and we just play. And play. And play. We sit on the sidewalk outside the store and, I swear, if you let it, if you let yourself get lost in it all, you can feel the stress come out of your fingertip each time your hand comes down to deliver another beat in the song.

We usually go for around two hours. My hands are numb when I get home and usually sore for two days afterward. And only part of that is because of hitting my drum's hard ceramic edges. The rest is just from getting so into it that you just zone out and play hard.

So, the third weekend of August is always our neighborhood festival - the Uptown Village Festival. We spent a good amount of time today walking up and down Main Street, checking out the classic cars and various vendors. Tonight, HBO was taping a comedy special in one of the stores, but I was counting the minutes until I'd get to go play that drum.

An African band played until 8 and then afterward a bunch of the regulars from Mint Tea's drum circle took over the festival's main stage and got to it. We played from 8 to 10, when we had to stop for the sake of people nearby being able to sleep. But man, what fun.

We started all out of rhythm, with no lead emerging to set the course. But, slowly, sort of like as discussed on a great podcast, "Radio Lab," I listened to last week, one emerged. And when it did, when we all came together -- 10 or so strangers on a stage in the middle of the street in the dark, with people walking by and looking at us funny -- it was a beautiful thing. Strangers climbed on stage and joined in. Others stopped to dance in the street. Some just paused and smiled. But it was one of those magical little moments that reminds me why I love this neighborhood. Abdul and I, I was thinking, could just as easily have been playing on Jemaa el Fna in Marrakesh, amid the snake charmers and all-night food vendors and barbers.

Sorry, no pictures. I was too busy playing. But there's one more drum circle scheduled at Mint Tea this year -- on Aug. 28. Maybe then I'll take some pictures. Either way, I'm looking forward to it already.

Big and little drummer boys

I got to help Luke, Dina and Ryan's oldest son, learn to drum last night at the final Mint Tea circle of the summer. Fun night. Luke seemed pretty mesmerized by it all - and really, who wouldn't be at that age?

I think that drumstick is bigger than he is. But that's the way it should be. Let your reach exceed your grasp, right? Today, at work, the whole night reminded me of this line, which - fittingly enough - I read in a story I was editing this morning.

"I tell my kids: ‘I don’t want you to be note punchers. I want you to be able to feel the music and put some emotion in it.’"

Whenever Amy and I have kids, I think that's the way to go. Somethings are not about doing by the notes. Instead, they're about going where the feeling leads you. That's been a lesson I was probably slow to learn.

Anyhow, the hippie-trippy dancing, always part of the show, fascinates the little ones.

Luke played until it appeared exhaustion was setting in. After that, the usual crowd played and played and played. Went for two-plus hours. I left well after dark, bouncing home, drumming all the way with wonderfully sore hands and a huge smile on my face.

Looking forward to next year's circles - and maybe some here and there over the fall and winter.