*A few identifying details have been changed in today’s post. *
Once upon a time, in a beach town not-so-far-away, I dated a drummer.
Photo: Santa Barbara pier
Mr. Drummer was tall-ish, dark-ish, and apparently I found him handsome.
(Of course, those were the days of sex, drugs, and rock n roll so I might not have been thinking straight.)
I do, distinctly, remember he had nice arms.
(All that pa rum pum pum pumming will do that for a guy, I guess.)
Drummer Boy and I were in our mid-twenties at the time. He was a few years older than me, but not very mature.
Come to think of it, I wasn’t very mature either – but I thought I was, so there’s that.
Drummer Boy played in a band called About Town –
About Town played, surpringly enough, about town.
Bars, clubs, hotels, restaurants, parties … wherever they could get work.
They were actually quite good, and sought after.
When I met Drummer Boy, I had no idea he was a drummer.
Drummer Boy was a neighbor who kept hanging around trying to get my attention.
He didn’t mention the pa rum pum pum pum part right off the bat.
If he had, I would have ignored him.
I had no interest in meeting musician-types, at all.
Eventually he got my attention and, in time, I found out about the band.
I was a very reluctant groupie.
Reluctant, meaning – I was very opposed to anyone thinking I was a groupie, and I valiantly resisted attending the band’s “gigs.”
In spite of my best efforts, I occasionally found myself in the audience.
Drummer Boy would give me meaningful, steamy, looks while he played Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum (or The Grateful Dead )!
Trouble Ahead, Trouble Behind … Don’t you know that notion just crossed my mind?
I’d drink too much with my friends in the audience, and possibly barf on Drummer Boy later in the night when he wanted to “get down tonight.”
I’m classy like that.
(And also a total lightweight with alcohol!)
A few weeks ago, as an after thought, I mentioned in a post – I once dated a drummer and he had nice arms.
Imagine my surprise when the next day I woke up to an email from Drummer Boy, who I lost touch of at least two decades ago.
I’ve edited our correspondence slightly, to protect the innocent –
Hello Twenty Four
I know this will come as a surprise to you, but it’s me Drummer Boy.
XXXX told me about 24 at Heart about two years ago and I check in frequently. Mostly every day is that creepy?
I thought about getting in touch sooner, but I didn’t want to mess up your life. When you mentioned dating a drummer I knew it must be me though so I thought it would be okay.
You said I had nice arms. You had nice legs and tits. : )
I still remember!
I live in XXXXXX which is probably only an hour or so from you.
I got married but that didn’t end too well. I have two teenagers. My kids are great. I still get together with some friends and bang it out now and then. I had a girlfriend, which is probably why my marriage didn’t end well. (ha ha)
Anyway, she’s gone now too.
I work for XXXXX. Not what I expected from life, huh?
I was really upset to hear about your car accident. Whoa! Scary shit.
Do you want to get together? Maybe we could have a drink and catch up on the old days. You’re still married to the suit?
P.S. I’m not surprised you’re a writer. You were so creative. I still have letters you sent me. I saved them in a box. You were meant to do exactly what you’re doing. Maybe the accident happened for a reason? So you could do what you’re meant to do? You were always taking pictures too. I still have photos you took when we went out to the lake. We really should hook up sometime.
Dear Drummer Boy,
Wow – what a surprise! I had no idea you lived in the area. I assumed you were still in XXXXXXX. I didn’t realize you were in touch with XXXX either.
Yes, I AM still married. His name is XXXXX. I call him Briefcase on my blog. (Not “the suit.”) I have three kids, but if you read 24 regularly, you already know that.
Yes, I’ve always loved writing and photography. It’s funny you remember so many years later. I can’t believe you have old notes/letters from when we dated.
The accident was a low point, and resulted in some difficult times. I’m in a better place now than I was.
Don’t worry, sending me an email certainly won’t “mess up” my life. I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. I’m assuming the part about a girlfriend was just a joke? It sounds like you have great kids.
I hate to break it to you, but it’s been years and my tits are now saggy and my legs look like dimpled peaches. : )
Maybe we could get coffee sometime if you’re ever in Orange County, or if I find myself somewhere near you.
P.S. I hope you don’t mind if I put your email on 24? I won’t include your real name, of course.
P.P.S. I don’t really believe the accident (or other terrible things) happen “for a reason.” I’m glad to be writing and working with photography though.
Dear Twenty Four,
I guess you can use my email.
What does your husband do?
I have a whole box of old letters, notes, and photos from when we dated. I could bring them and show you if we meet up for a drink?
Do you remember when we broke up and awhile later you dated that guitar player? That still bugs me. Why did you do that? He was such a loser.
The girlfriend I mentioned was not a joke. She came after my wife and I separated, mostly. It’s a long story.
Do you want to go for a drink?
Dear Drummer Boy,
Guitar player? Oh, him. He was nothing. I forgot he even existed. Can’t believe he’s still on your mind. That was quite awhile after we broke up.
I’d love to see old notes and photos if you have them.
I’ll let you know if I’m ever in the vicinity of your town,
I hope you’ll let me know if you find yourself in South OC.
A quick coffee to get caught up would be nice.
P.S. Briefcase is a sales/marketing guy.
OK, I have to admit, I’d love to see what’s in his box of notes and photos ….
But, I think a quick coffee (someday, maybe) is a much better idea than anything involving alcohol.
(I wouldn’t want to barf on Drummer Boy …. again.)