Friday, April 29, 2005

Riding With Jab

I've been hitching rides with Jab to school this semester. We both have a scandalously early morning class, so for those days I wake up only in time for a cursory face wash and a Listerine gargle, I call him up for a ride.

For the past 2 years I have known him, Jab has been notorious for his court hearings and speed tickets. Rumors had it that he was banned to drive in DC and that his license has been suspended more often than the number of times Bush has said the words "weapons of mass destruction" in a single speech.

On one occasion, Jab had sped down Fifth Avenue just to beat the light. We were about 10 minutes early to class and I wasn't sure whether he was anxious to get to school or if he were suffering from irritable bowel syndrome.

"Wow, what must have those policemen been thinking to take your license away from you.." I began.
"Those policemen were wrong!"
"I'll bet they were."
"I wasn't even speeding!"
"Idiots."
"Yeah, and I had to go to court, man! They haven't even given me my license back"
"Wh..they what? You don't have your license? Right now?"
"Nah. Stupid policemen."

Earlier this morning, I woke up late having studied the entire night with Iron Chef America playing in the background. I call Jab for an emergency ride and he comes swinging by 10 minutes later. We were already late so I figured there'd be no need for a rush. But at the junction of Morewood and Forbes, just as the lights turn yellow, Jab steps on the accelerator and I feel my breakfast sloshing around in my tummy.

"You're crazy," I finally say.
"Why?"
"Because of how you drive!"
"What?? Those people are slow!"
"I think it's called 'abiding the law'"
"Hahahaha!"


Jab's a great guy. He's always offering to take me to malls and once he helped drive me around downtown looking for my Professor's office building when I badly needed a letter of recommendation from him for a job. He's a nice fella and even takes notes for me in class when I fail to show up (it only happened once, I swear).

But he's a pure maniac on the road.

Anyway, as graduation nears, the prospects of ever riding with Jab becomes dimmer. And so, with much appreciation I raise my glass to him for always getting me places in one piece, albeit a little flustered and disoriented.

May you speed with the wind and never lose your grip on the wheel. Cheers!

Friday, April 15, 2005

Drumming Up A (Mild) Storm

My weekly drum lessons have become almost therapeutic. Just the sight of the College of Fine Arts building soothes me. I know that as soon as I step inside, I can escape from being (or pretending to be) the IS student, and be the rockstar, ehem, that I truly am. (Do I hear the sound of snickering out there?)

I discovered within the first couple of weeks that I can be an uncoordinated fool, with arms thrashing everywhere as if I were having a spasm. I might aswell have been foaming at the mouth... But Paul, my instructor, always has something nice to say. He is by far one of the coolest people I've met, always ending his sentences with, "You dig?", to which I would reply tentatively "Err, yeah. I..dig..?" I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to answer to that.

We started the semester with some swing and cha-cha beats. I guess I was doing well until we started drumming to some rock songs...

"Hey, you're getting it!.."
"Thank you, sir"
"...but your snare still sounds a little wuss-y"
"..aah.."

Apparently Paul seems to think I'm a sweet, dainty girl. Every week he'd be saying stuff like,

"You gotta let your inhibitions go!"
"Let your hair down! Go against your nature!"
"Go like this!" (and he'd demonstrate by making a kick-ass metal face) "You dig?"

And so I'd make what I think are metal faces, but they don't seem to help with my drumming. Plus I think I might be freaking him out...

Now, with two more lessons left, Paul is letting me bring tunes I like so we can jam together. It'll be a nice conclusion to a fine semester. And I've been practicing in front of the mirror too. So I hope I'll be able to impress Paul with my best impression of Lars, if not my drumming skills...