I'd like to dedicate this post to the memory of Jim Blackley, the man who I will always call “teacher”.

I recently spent a lesson with a youngster listening to a Katie Perry tune. This fellow was just beginning to be interested in music, and the tune really spoke to him. I like to work with real world examples, so we listened to the tune and talked about it. I pointed out things the drummer was doing that were things we'd been working on. For his next lesson, I prepared some exercises that he could play along to the tune. We spent maybe 10 minutes on the drums that day, but it was one of the best lessons ever because he got it, and he got it because it meant something to him.

I'd only playing for a few years and was about a year into my studies with a world-renown teacher, but at this particular lesson I was bombing. I didn't know why I was bombing. My teacher, who didn't often say much, was pacing the room slowing shaking his head. “Let’s try it again,” he said. That meant another month of the same material. So I knuckled down and did it all again. I was good at knuckling down. I had the discipline and determination to master the material I was assigned. And I HAD mastered it. Or so I thought.

It would be nice if we all could just hear complex rhythms and then play them. Most of us have to find some way of counting them. For example, I learned to play quarter note triplets with 'Pass the gol-durn butter'. I use 'serendipity' to count 5-lets. Doesn't really matter how you count things, as long as it works for you.