Felicitations From Fairhope #16
29 January 2023
Hello there… Rodger French here.
It is hardly revelatory that the status of “retired” tends to enable, nay, mandate reflection on matters both profound (the qualities of love and friendship, apologies owed to those wronged, hard lessons learned) and frivolous (bucket lists, Top 10 lists, the list goes on). Recently, I have been ruminating on the motley assortment of jobs I’ve had in 75 years and... Ta-da! A list! Don’t panic, it’s brief:
Military - Navy Signalman (SM2): Visual communications supervisor, “Leader of Men”
Longish Term - Artist model, residential carpenter, radio (Program Director, DJ, titular engineer), Arts Administrator, newsletter editor
Career - Accordionist, drummer/percussionist, musical director/band leader, theatre/studio musician, juggler, Vaudevillian
State Department - An assortment of jobs, some of them interesting, designated for Eligible Family Members able to obtain a Top Secret security clearance
OK, now on to the actual point of all this.
FWIW, I used to be a decent drummer. Never had chops to burn or a desire to solo, but I worked at it and developed a solid feel for “sitting in the pocket” (keeping good time), became adept at playing quietly (essential for theatre gigs), and learned how to read drum scores. I had several teachers - notably the great Peggy Benkeser - and earned an actual degree in music that included a minor in “Percussion Performance,” a fact I still cannot believe. Along the way, I became acceptably proficient in several styles, although not-so-much jazz. (I respect jazz drummers too much to ever consider passing myself off as one.) But my favorite style of drumming was, and still is, funk.
By now, you may be wondering “WTF brought all this on?” Well, this December past, A.J. and I took a little trip to New Orleans to spend a few days with some old friends eating too well, watching a ridiculous amount of college football on TV, and celebrating New Year’s Eve. We had a great time. Each evening, a large assemblage of local brass and percussion players would congregate on a corner opposite our digs in Faubourg Marigny to play and pass the hat for a couple of hours. Straight-ahead brass band, second line parade music with that funky New Orleans shuffling rhythm I first heard as a kid listening (on a transistor radio, of course) to musicians including Fats Domino, Ernie K-Doe, Barbara George, and Little Richard.
This is a rhythm foundational to an incalculable amount of great music. It makes you glad you came to the party and compels you to move your ass. And if you’re fortunate enough to be a somewhat skilled drummer who has been paying attention, playing it connects you to a boatload of musical and cultural history. And, at no extra charge, briefly exalts you to the status of “too cool for the room.”
[Essential Commerce Sidebar - I returned from our trip not only with a renewed appreciation for New Orleans music, but also three books on the subject from Frenchmen Art & Books and a double CD anthology found at Louisiana Music Factory.]
My trusty Ludwig 14” chrome snare drum and stick bag are still in the closet. Might be time for another list.
Onward.
Rodger
