I never know what I’m going to write about each month for the unphiltered column, and this month would prove to be the same. I do know what the deadline is; I do know that I have to write something. I do know whatever something I write about has to be good, but each month always starts the same way, with the hope of inspiration. The inspiration has to be someone, something or some event that warrants a few words, or in this case 521 if you want to nitpick. As one column is published, so begins the four-week clock for the next column to be published, and so on and so on. I have four weeks, or 28 days, or 672 hours, or any other way one could describe a month’s worth of time, to be inspired, but without the catalyst, it’s all moot.

I would go for two weeks without inspiration. A very long time two weeks can be as a deadline hangs over my head like a pendulum of pandemonium, with each swing representing time lost, and my idea-less reality. If you asked me about my column on the evening of February 13th, my answer was “I have no idea.” I would go to sleep that night and as the night before, sleep well. I would awaken late into the following morning, but unlike the morning before, I immediately realized, something was very different. My thoughts were confusing; as I didn’t understand what I was about to say, but felt a strong need to be heard. If you asked about my column at that moment, that late morning of February 14th, I would have answered, “It’s about me.” 

Did you think I was going to write a cliché Valentines Day piece, on Valentines Day? Don’t get me wrong; I for one despise Valentines Day. I would never, ever celebrate such a ridiculous, corporatized, money sucking, idiotic day, but it does give me something special. A special something called February 15th, or its true moniker, the half off everything candy day.  Willy Wonka would be rolling in his grave if he weren’t a fictitious character played brilliantly by Gene Wilder only to be ruined years later by Johnny Depp.

My point; I’m retiring from drumming. That’s the prestige to all of this mucky muck. I was born a drummer and will die a drummer, but I will drum no more. The album Patina is the best drumming I’ve ever recorded, but I will drum no more. I will finish this year with Red Dragon Cartel, but I will drum no more. I’m grateful to all the amazing musicians and bands I had the honor to drum for, but I will drum no more. I’m truly grateful for all the love, and all the support, from my fans, but I will drum no more. I hope you will follow me to the next destination, and be a part of my life movie as I live Act 3 to fin, but I will drum no more.

After 30 years a drummer, I will drum no more.