The kids down the street are having band practice again
I mostly only hear the bass guitar and snare drum from here. The bass player is all about the non-stop, fast arpeggios. The snare can hardly get a bang in edgewise, and hammers out every third beat with all it’s got. There’s a singer in the mix, but I couldn’t tell you what he’s on about (or even what key he’s going for). Occasionally, a bit of guitar noodling drifts along on the breeze, but you can only make it out between songs.
Oh, a trumpet or maybe a trombone just now. That’s new. Didn’t last long. Perhaps they’re shy. It never occurred to me that a trombone could come in flat, but in retrospect, it’s obvious. I hear that now.
The kids have been at it non-stop since ten or eleven this morning, and it’s nearly eight o’clock now. They do this three times a week, give or take a session. How anyone in this day and age should be having so much fun is beyond me. It’s an affront.1
Footnotes
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It’s not really an affront. ↩