2003-05-25 - 3:11 a.m.
The following is something I wrote a few years ago. During this time I was going though a shortlived jogging phase. I have since ceased jogging, however I do sprint to trains daily.
I am better than them, I merely want to jog.
Yes the tone of the bongo comes from within. You must truly feel it inside and let your Chi pound right through your hands.
Bongo class meets riverside Wednesday afternoons. The twelve or so assemble with shiny gourd and hand-drum (one with purple bolts of lightening printed all over it) and flail as passionately as inability will allow. The circle seems to encompass many walks of displaced life; librarians, ESL teachers, the school band kid who didn't pass the rhythm test to learn drums at school, and his step mother, etc.
The wavering pulses that shoot across the highway and beyond the supermarket parking lot are startlingly unearthly. A twinkle of hell.
