mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary

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Bongos Suck

The last few days have been breathtakingly beautiful. Big blue sky, lots of sunshine, Mt. Rainier in the distance, the crisp smell of salt water in the air. It's these kind of days that make me think I'll never live anywhere else.

Each evening, after work, Pete and I have hopped on our bikes and cruised down to Golden Gardens to fantasy boat shop. "Oh check that lovely wooden number out," I say. "Yeah, I guess I'd take that one, if it was given to me," he'll respond.

We usually secure a bench and lounge out for an hour or so before heading back home. We watch the people on the beach, kids running into the cold tide and then screeching with glee before dashing back up to the safety of their warm towels. We watch the kite surfers cut across the water and listen to the seals honking away on the buoys. We inhale the smoky scent of the evening barbecues and things are almost perfect. Almost.

Please tell me why there always has to be some dopey guy playing the bongos where ever I go? Why is this silly idiot everywhere I want to be? Seriously, every time I am enjoying the weather and relaxing in the great outdoors, a dork shows up with bongos and begins drumming away. I know what you're thinking, "Mrs-R, why so much hatred for the hand percussion?" I think it has more to do with the no talent hacks that play bongos than the sound of bongos themselves. In fact, I actually like some bongo playing. I own Wille Rodriguez's a Bunch of Bongos and various other Cuban records that are heavy on the percussion but the people hanging out in the public parks are never playing salsa rhythms ala Ricky Ricardo. They're all "just groovin' man" or as I see it just banging for the sake of banging with no decipherable rhythm and all the skill of a five year old. And it's bad enough when there's just a single Trustarfarian doing this but when there's a bunch hanging around forming what they call a "drum circle," I really find myself wondering how much time I'd do for gunning them down.

11:49 a.m. - 2004-04-30

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