dharmabum i remember the first lesson i ever got on the bohdron. heavy fog. skin loose. me pushing for all i was worth at the philly folk fest. kids danceing. me makeing the best of the lessons i had in the sun of the afternoon. everyone in the immediate crowd seeing me wailing away. in these past years when i've been out in the world, playing. and every once in a while, showing how to do it. i feel the cold, clammy fog. and the beat just carries me on. sorry for the aside, folks. just had a rithymic moment.-- kettlebelly