I found some timpani kettle drums on craigslist really cheap.
I thought I might know the guy selling them, but wasn’t sure.
My first thoughts were “You don’t need these. Save your money. I don’t have room for them.” Then I watched a video introduction to timpani drums, and remembered how much I wanted to mess with a set that was sitting on stage at my jr. high, but never did because I didn’t want to get in trouble.

I had to have them.

So I call the guy, and raced out there after hitting the ATM.
I still wasn’t sure if it was who I thought it might be, & didn’t care. I was just thinking about the drums.

I get out there and it’s the guy I thought it might be.

My first experience with this fella was fear. Back in the late 80’s my friend lived with his grandparents by the airport, and he was always trying to get me to go across the street to meet the guy, but I didn’t because he was a bald biker that looked pretty scary. My friend kept telling me he was awesome, but I passed every time.

After some years the airport started buying up all the people’s property in that neighborhood, including my buddy’s grandparents’ house. The biker guy told them he wouldn’t sell & never did.

About the turn of the century I met the biker’s kid who was training in MMA, and we’d get loaded and play soccer. All the people I was playing with were around 10 years younger than me and all grew up hanging out at the biker’s house and would tell me stories that made me regret never meeting the guy.

A few years ago my friend who lived across from them died & I finally met the guy at the funeral. He was indeed really cool, but under the circumstances it wasn’t a good time.

So I go to get the drums. We talk about how much he misses our friend & we end up hanging out for a couple of hours. He has this amazing idyllic garden with the best tomatoes I’ve ever had. His son, that I played ball with, comes home from work, and I find out he’s moved back in with the folks for whatever reason. We went around the garden and he fills me and my buddy with a pick-up truck helping me haul the one drum I can’t even fit into my girlish SUV, with a sack of the best produce I’ve ever had in my life.

He has all this cool stuff in the garden like big aluminum round vent things from a local nuke plant and big metal things from the 19th century like cable car gears and such. It’s kind of like an episode of American Pickers, but all neat & tidy. He reminisced about the good old times like when he took my deceased buddy on his first side-car ride on his old Harley while my buddy was tripping balls on acid and how they knew each other since he was a baby and all the stories of him growing up.

We would probably still be in that garden if it hadn’t started raining all over my new bigger timpani. It was amazing.

Your week might not have been this good, but still, what was your best moment this week?

I’m going to ask again next week so let’s get out there & have some good times to share, or I will send ravens to peck out your eyes.


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  1. ladybarbara 5 months ago

    Not being in the hospital, but the moment they told me I could be released. I called Immortal Pirate and when he came to pick me up – that – was my happiest moment. We went out for dinner — sushi. Being that I was breaking a 19 hour fast, I was hungry!!! We gulped our food really fast. Well, Immortal Pirate ate at his usual speed that can make chop sticks glow and smoke before I have only eaten 2 sushi pieces.

    Coming home was the best experience of the week. Home sweet home. Home — where no one sticks me with needles, no one takes my blood pressure every hour, I don’t have to pee in a measuring cup (I did not want a catheter!!!) and did not have a Filipino Nurse coming in every 2 hours to see my pee pee, measure my pee pee, or comment on the color of my pee pee. I did not have to drag an IV rack behind me everywhere I went. No one was going to do echo-grams of my insides, hook me up to heart monitors, have me lay in Cat scan machinery, or do stress tests that nearly killed me.

    The worse moment was when they injected me with a stress chemical and I could not control myself from doing the death rattle. The wall beside me became something I could pass through and then I returned to my body with all the staff looking at me with deep concern —- as if they had just killed a patient. That was the worst moment of this week. All staff relaxed as I began to pant, huff and puff while coming back down to the feeling that I had ran a mile. After the stress test, if there was a Bitch Parade, I would be the Queen on the Bitch Parade float. I became inwardly combative. I knew that I had to keep my arm still for needles and that damn blood pressure cuff. They were going to take my blood pressure twice, but I said, “Squeeze my arm again and SEE WHAT I DO TO YOU!!!” and she had to settle for the 230 over 150 blood pressure measurement. After all, they had just brought me to the brink of death and I flew into full bitch mode. I wanted to GO HOME!!!

    Going home was my best moment, ever!


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    • Author
      luftballooneyegouge 5 months ago



      Let me try….
      I am now taking possesion of the Filipeeno nurse….
      …. ahh yes I’m getting a lemon zest, baked apple saveur, with a delightful top-note layer of red rose hip, & juniper berry with a hint of Strawberry Quik®.


      So what you need to do is recline with a purring kitty, watch some b&w tv shows, and know that even us in the Godless liberal neo-marxist conspiracy, Love You all mushy style!

      Bahá’u’lláh Bless or however it goes!!

      Don’t you make me have to possess a Filipoono nurse!!
      :tease: :smile: :smile: :smile: :smile: :smile: :smile:


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  2. immortal_pirate 5 months ago

    Knowing that Lady Barbara will be okay.

    We had a thunder storm and rain the other night…I love a good thunder storm, and the rain cleans the air.


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  3. Gina 5 months ago

    Reading your story makes me want to take the stuff off my Gon Bops Conga drums and start playing. I think I will do that tonight after I work in the garden. Thank you for the inspiration. Enjoy those drums man!!! Your drum buying story sounds a lot like mine. I never had drums, or played them; but I always wanted conga drums. I have rhythm and I knew I could play them. I bought them when I was out of a job! They were on sale, and I ….just had to have them. :)

    Last week, well…I took Friday off because we were going to see Panic at the Disco. We had a fun night the night before at a Vegan Bar called, No Bones. I had two Blue Hawaiians that were pretty darn strong. We left that bar and stumbled onto a live Jazz band. The windows were open to the club, and we could see and hear the band standing outside the venue. ….Long story short, we didn’t drive home that night; and left the next day. Seattle traffic was horrendous due to a sold out show Pear Jam was putting on to raise awareness and money for the homeless, our sold our Panic show, and a fire that shut down a nearby highway. It took twice as long to get home and we realized we would get stuck in worse traffic on the way back to the city. We decided to skip the concert and give the tickets away.

    We ended up giving our tickets to a young lady who works for a non-profit. She does the work of angels, and gets paid very little for it. She couldn’t afford these tickets and she was extremely happy when we said we were giving them to her. She said her 13 year old self would be so jealous. She is a huge Panic at the Disco fan. Every time I stop and think, damn…I missed a great show; I think of the person who happily took the tickets, and I get a warm, good feeling inside.

    It’s a great week when you can bring happiness to another being. Isn’t that the meaning of life?


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