Thank you, STEWART, for allowing me to drum with The Police.

[BABA]

Thank you, Mr. Copeland, for letting me join in on drums during the "Toast in the Machine" soundcheck.

Thank you, Mr. Summers and Sting, for tolerating an instrumental interloper.

Thank you, Mr. Seitz, for not evicting me and for your good humor.

Thank you, stewartcopeland.net community, for tremendous information and inspiration. When I get back home in a few days, I'll begin posting the whole story in the standard cliffhanging episodic manner.

Ciao for now.

[Vince Flamacue]

Lucky bastard...is there video?

[BongoBoy]

BABA BAstard !!!!!

heh,heh.

Fucking Brilliant !

How was it ?

Lucky so n so ...Good for you Man !

and at the finale'...do you want fries with that ?

Cheers.

BB

[luddite lady]

Thanks again BABA for the tickets to JB2. What a show! I'm so happy to hear you were at the sound check and drumming, too. I'm sorry I didn't end up meeting you in NYC to thank you personally. Perhaps we will meet down the road at a 'nutter occasion.

[Maud138]

[quote="BABA"] When I get back home in a few days, I'll begin posting the whole story in the standard cliffhanging episodic manner.

Ciao for now.[/quote]


Mmmm I like that, another cliffhanging story!!

[DirtyMartini]

[quote="BABA"]I'll begin posting the whole story in the standard cliffhanging episodic manner.[/quote]

HA!

Congrats, BABA! Can't wait for the details!

[bella]

It was great meeting you baba, but why the hell did you not tell me that in person so I could kick your ass? But seriously, congrats. I can't wait to be held in suspense by yet another nutter.

[DrummerDaveF]

You shit me. =•)

[nancyrose]

I was so happy to run into you after the show and hear your story, BABA! Thrilled that you had this amazing opportunity!

Look forward to reading about it once you've got the time!

[Skip]

WOW - I can't wait to hear all about it.
Way to go BABA!

[bella]

Ok, I think baba is going for the nutter record in the suspense department. tap tap tap

[BABA]

OK, here we go. But first, let me send a particular thank-you to Spec A! -- without the chronicles of your soundcheck adventure, I would never have lived (or even imagined) the tale set forth below. And now, on with the show.

Chapter 1

So my wife and I are being herded with the other soundcheckers from a holding pen up an escalator onto what I suppose is the corridor ringing the first deck of the arena. We can hear “Message in a Bottle” in progress, which almost causes the herd to stampede. The wranglers get us under control and tell us that we can’t go in yet (without giving any reasons). Of course, it turns out that the final “Message in a Bottle” has a surprise guest (NYPD drum corps) and a closed rehearsal makes some sense, but we don’t know that. Tension builds.

Eventually, we are led single-file to The Pit. First up is “Roxanne”, and about two dozen pre-determined non-me people are called up to the stage. I’ve been informed that a beloved member of this forum handled lead vocals, so I’ll let him tell his story without spoilers from me. Next up is “Every Breath You Take”, but despite my best efforts I am not called up. Now we are down to what could very well be the last chance ever, the pressure is on, there’s no tomorrow and I’m not going to fail for a lack of trying. My wife and I are doing jumping jacks like an infomercial, we give some assurances that we’ll sing, and we get the call. Sorry Public Television, but I told a teensy-weensy little white lie. And thank you Public Television, from the bottom of my heart, for letting us in and up.

We mount the MSG stage Sting-side. Whether or not Sting was actually there may sound like a ridiculous question, but I’ll never be able to answer it because I make a tunnelvision beeline to the drumset, hi-hat side. Peeking through the sub-cymbal slot above the Octobans, wearing my finest “Savannah Music Festival 2008” t-shirt (little Rhythmatist logo on the front), I calmly inquire with Stewart Copeland as to whether I can play along on his percussion rig. He says sure, but just not the tympanis. How about the gong? Sure, but just avoid those tympanis. Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you: do you know any world-touring musicians that will let a complete stranger loose on their instrument(s) just prior to a major performance? Yes, as a matter of fact, you do.

I ascend. Now, there’s been a lot of talk about the tour’s nostalgia element, and to some degree I’m sure that’s true. But at this particular moment, standing on an on-stage hydraulic lift high above The Police surrounded by what seems like about 300 crotales, chimes, splashes, finger cymbals, sound disks, rotosounds and who knows what else, I am not recalling or reliving the good old days of my long-gone youth. Rather, I am a present-day Kid in the Kinetic Kandy Shop. First order of business: GONG!!!

To be continued . . . .

[DirtyMartini]

(YAY.)

[bella]

Ohhhhhhh, this is goooooood. I hope there are pictures.

[Spec A!]

ROCK ON. Can't wait to hear more!