I love music like I love painting and writing. It's a part of me like my toes or my nipples. And the drums are my passion when I hit the stage. It's easy to relax once I've beat the hell out of the drum heads for thirty minutes or so. I always wear my safety goggles now when I practice or play a show after nearly loosing an eye to a broken stick popping off my snare and into my face while we were on stage at Max's Kansas City one night]. Safety first I've learned the hard way, lol. When I'm at home I practice almost naked for the freedom of movement, plus it feels really sexy and empowers me for some reason. I generally wear a jock [usually black with loose nylon gym trunks if people are there to watch]. Sometimes I like to strap on a studded leather harness with a spiked collar. It crisscrosses my chest and looks tough as hell with my spiked Mohawk bleached and tinted with green or blue. I always wear a pair of black Nike high-tops signed by Bun E. Carlos from the band Cheap Trick/my pride and joy.
So there I am, violently kicking the bass drum beater twice every forth beat of the hi-hat release and alternating snap on the snare all the while envisioning myself in the frozen hot spotlights behind Ozzy Osbourne on the main stage at Ozzfest, passionately hammering the savagely quick paced eight count beat to Black Sabbath's classic masterpiece, Paranoid as the old rocker, worn but determined, paces sluggishly back and forth like Rain Man as the smoke detector blares down. With a gruff voice and red tips on his long black hair and wearing a white/gold deaths head belt-buckle and custom orthopedic biker boots he sings a handful of simple rhymes he must have performed tens of thousands of times prior...
I can dream!