INTO THE YELLOW WOOD--PART TWO

Of Drums and Drama

DeHart was casting two plays that would run in rotating rep, Capek’s idiosyncratic INSECT COMEDY and Steinbeck’s OF MICE AND MEN. I auditioned for both figuring I would get a bug part in the Capek. In fact, I got two bug parts, an Ant, and the Second Dung Beetle. Let me interject here that my show-stopping performance as the Second Dung Beetle became legendary among beetles and dung eaters of all kinds.


With no acting experience I figured I might get a ranch hand walk-on in the Steinbeck.


I was wrong.


DeHart pulls me aside and tells me that he is going to cast me in the lead role of “George.”



Say what?


DeHart continues, “but if I give you this role can I count on you to give me back 100% of your time and devotion?”


Good question.

In addition to Judy Vance, I had one other thing going for me at Florida High School. By the end of my freshman year I had inherited the drum section of the high school band. I was the lead snare drummer and had built my own little drum corps, particularly David Kahler and Ed “the Crow” Levine. Beyond that, I had formed a little extracurricular combo with Mike “Spider” Brown, a drum and piano duo we called “Robert, Bruce, and the Spider” (Scottish folklore; Google it). I was Robert, Mike was the Spider, and we were hoping to eventually recruit a bass player named Bruce, or a bass player who would be willing to change his name to Bruce.

Yes, I was the hot shit drummer at Florida High. People finally knew my name. I had credibility.

That spring “Robert, Bruce, and the Spider” competed in the Florida High Talent show. We took second place, and let me go on record, we were cheated. Cheated! Damn you stars of destiny and faculty wimps!

First place was won by a trio of “folksingers” who styled themselves “The Landsmen” and sang stirring numbers like “Cool Water” and “Cruel War.”

By time the talent show rolled around, I had mastered Joe Morello’s 5/4 licks from “Take Five” and could lay down that incredible 9/8 insanity from “Blue Rondo a la Turk.”

Let’s stop for a moment and do a little 9/8 time together. This is audience participation.



I’m serious.



Sing the following riff as fast as you can:

One two, One two, One Two, One two three
One two, One two, One Two, One two three
One two, One two, One Two, One two three
One Two three, one Two three, one Two three

One two, One two, One Two, One two three
One two, One two, One Two, One two three
One two, One two, One Two, One two three
One Two three, one Two three, one Two three

Yeah! You got it didn't you?

Spider and I threw a little of that Dave Brubeck 9/8 stuff in the middle of our talent show number. I’ll tell you one more thing, Spider Brown could flat out flail the boogie woogie on the ivories. He had amazingly long fingers, which is why they called him Spider, duh. We rocked the Florida High auditorium.

But we took second place. We were, thinking back on it, a bit too “hip” for our little Southern high school.

Anyway, excuse my lengthy, but necessary, percussion digression, and let’s get back to DeHart’s question,


“if I give you this role can I count on you to give me back 100% of your time and devotion?”


I was heavily invested in my drum duties as section leader. The band director, Glen Heinlen, expected me to devote serious summer hours training the incoming freshmen percussionists. I explained this conflict of duties to Stan DeHart. His reply is still quoted by my friends and his:

“You can drammie dram dram. Or you can drummie drum drum.”

“Pick one.”

I picked.