I have a favorite sound, not that you asked. And no, it isn’t the obvious one, crashing waves. Nope. That’s my second choice.

I once went to Orange County with my husband to see a friend who was a famous jazz singer. She gave us free passes, we couldn’t resist. As we approached “will call” to retrieve our tickets, I overheard the orchestra tuning up. This was years ago. I looked at my husband and announced, “That is my favorite sound. So, if ever we are on The Newlywed Game and they ask you my favorite sound, that is what it is, please remember.” I doubt that he made a mental note of it, so we won’t be winning any game shows.

I have a prized possession – a note I wrote to my daddy when I was little. The note says that my grades are good enough to get into orchestra. Proudest moment of my life, and I needed to share the good news with my dad who was in London producing a play (and turning down an unknown band called the Beatles who wanted to come to the States). I looked forward to that day — being in the orchestra — my entire school life. I would watch the elegant older girls clutching their violins and dream of the day that that would be me.

I brought home the application for orchestra. There were a few questions on the form and I enlisted my brother Alan’s help. He asked me what instrument I wished to play. I said, as if there were any other answer, violin. He then said, “Okay, second choice.” I again said “violin.” He said “No, Fredde, they need a SECOND choice, what other instrument might you want to learn?” “Nothing Alan, I only want to learn to play the violin. Just put that and let me turn it in tomorrow, that’s good, thanks,” I said, as I tried to pry the paperwork from his hands. He refused to accept this as an answer because he goes by the rules. I kept insisting, “I ONLY want to play the violin and no other instrument — don’t even write one down.” Now it was a battle. “Listen,” Alan said, “the bells could be fun, you might find them easy since you already play a bit of piano? So, how about those bells?” “Okay, sure,” I reluctantly gave in just to get him off my back, and he filled out the rest of the form.

A week or so went by till the teacher announced what instrument we got. It seemed an eternity as everyone’s name was called, and then they said: “Fredrica Duke, percussion. Please go to the equipment room to pick up your instruments.” I was baffled and instinctively knew to be angry. When I went to the equipment room, they handed me my DRUM STICKS????!!!!!! Were they kidding, wasn’t this some kind of mistake???? It had to be!!! I said, ”No, you must have made a mistake, (sure of myself and a touch defiant) I am here for a violin. Please look up my name again.” They humored me, checking their paperwork, then said, “No, it’s definitely percussion, your second choice. Now I’m screaming, “What is PERCUSSION???? “ “Drums, you can take the sticks home and here is your practice pad.” What the fuck??? Those were not my exact 4th grade words but my blood was boiling; I had been profoundly betrayed by my older brother. Double-crossed. So, I cried as I ran through the halls to his classroom which was quiet and in session. I stormed in, tears in my eyes, to yell at my brother, “Alan – they gave me PERCUSSION!” as I waved the damn drum sticks around in the air. He took me into the hall to calm me down. I was hysterical at this point but he stayed very calm, he said we should talk about it later. He was embarrassed by my behavior in front of his friends. When we were home, he and my mother convinced me to try it, that I might like it, that it would be easy. Easy being the operative word. They promised me if I hated it, next year I could try again for violin. And that’s how I came to play the drums in the school orchestra for the rest of grammar school. All four years. Or would that be five? I’m bad at math. I should probably also mention there were no other girl drummers. None. Not in any popular bands and certainly not in grammar or high school, not that I knew of anyway.

After I played drums for a few years, my father surprised me with my own Gold Sparkle Ludwig set. Nothing was missing. It had a snare drum, bass drum, tom-toms, floor tom-toms, hi-hats, cymbals. It even had a cowbell. No doubt he’d made a call, said he was in production for a movie and got it as a freebie. To me, my dad was a hero, especially when he made magical things like drum sets, pianos, sometimes even cars, appear.

There was another big fantasy I had in grammar school besides playing the violin, which I had given up on long ago. It was to look great in a fantastic dress, wearing heels and walking with my graduating class to “Pomp and Circumstance,” our shining moment, before an audience filled with proud parents and family. But NO. I was in that damn orchestra. The conductor informed me that they needed someone to play the bass drum for the piece, so I would be left out of the fantasy moment I’d always dreamed of.

I also stayed playing “percussion” through my first year of high school. It wasn’t easy because during football season, we were a marching band. The drum I was forced to carry was the big-ass bass drum. Not only was it too heavy for me, but with each marching step, the bottom edge would cut into my shins; please note that I was all of four-feet, seven inches. I was often bleeding by the end of each Friday night game. Also, there were two band nerds, other drummers and never-been-with-a-girl types who, on the long walk back to return our instruments after the game, would throw drum sticks at my head. I was officially done after this experience. Fuck that, I was going to move on to cheerleading and a much sexier costume.

For the fun of it, I just quizzed my husband on what my favorite sound is. Here is what he answered: “The sound of a plate of food being placed in front of you?”

RIMSHOT!!! I’m not really a drinker, never have been but in honor of this piece, enjoy this recipe.

Buddy Rich Recipe
Recipe
3/4 oz Stolichnaya raspberry vodka
3/4 oz Kahlua coffee liqueur
1/2 oz Chambord raspberry liqueur
1/4 oz Frangelico hazelnut liqueur
1/2 oz half-and-half
Preparation Instructions:
Build the Stoli raspberry vodka, Kahlua coffee liqueur, Chambord raspberry liqueur and Frangelico hazelnut liqueur into a highball glass filled with ice cubes. Top with half-and-half, and serve.
Additional/Optional Info:

Servings: 1 person

Serve In:
highball glass

Tags: 1960's girl drummer, Alan Duke, Beverly High, Beverly Vista, Buddy Rich, fredde duke, girl drummer, Gold Sparkle Ludwig, Maurice Duke, michael barrie, rosemary clooney, school band, school orchestra

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 7th, 2011 at 11:21 am and is filed under Recipes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.