T.G.I.F. . .

Just found out an interesting thing about Keith Carlock, the accomplished session drummer who currently fills the vacuum created by 30-plus years of Steely Dan compositions.

Apparently, Keith is a product of Clinton, Mississippi and being only slightly younger than myself I am almost certain that he and I went to school together at some point. Don't remember any Keith's particularly, but I do remember this dickhead named Dusty.

This punk, on the 2nd grade playground, was a hulking, squared-browed, strawberry blonde, hillbilly-looking near-idiot who punished us "littler" kids by wandering the schoolyard in pursuit of sadistic pleasures such as tucking his big, fat grubby hand up the sleeve of his red and white polar jacket and coaxing a younger child to peer inside.

To which, some dopey kid would lean over almost poking his nose into the cuff of the sleeve only to be slammed in the face by a rapidly exiting, fat, grubby fist. Yes, I was one of those dopey kids. Dusty, wherever you are in life I hope it is a dark, painful and eternally uncomfortable place, people like you deserve places like that.

But back to Keith. Keith and I also shared drum teacher extraordinaire George Lawrence, another fine product of this great state, who played locally for years in a band called Chemistry. George was a good man, a fantastic drummer and taught me just enough to make me think I knew it all. In retrospect, I should have stuck it out like Keith.

Yet, some people are naturals at what they do and Keith is certainly that. His fluidity, speed and most importantly, his "time" are the tenets of modern drumming and most positively he has accomplished it all.

Thanks Keith and thanks George. Keep on the skins and never let up!