First blonde moment of the school year

I'm back in Boston for the weekend, doing a little thing called "moving." It is fun. Not. Anyhoo.

I went to school today to check out what books I need for the semester so that I can go buy them cheaper somewhere else (booyah). I left the bookstore and proceeded to wait for the shuttle home. A ways off to my left was the marching band, practicing for the first football game.

To my right was some construction. I couldn't see it from where I was, but I could hear the banging. After a minute or so, I noticed that whoever was hammering or whatever was doing it quite rhythmically. I guessed that they were entertaining themselves, since, if you're going to be doing manual labor, you may as well make it fun, right? I remembered taking some kind of World Music class at Tufts and how our teacher played us a recording of something that sounded like Stomp - there were clearly no real instruments being used but the end product was an awesome percussiony sound. As it turned out, it was a recording taken at a post office somewhere in Africa - the workers got through their dull days by making up rhythms.

I pondered this African post office phenomenon as I bopped my head to the sound of the construction. It was then that I realized something - there was no construction. There was a drummer. Drumming. On a real instrument. And after a few seconds, he was joined by other drummers. The marching band's percussion section had apparently split off from the rest to go practice on their own.

Heh. Oops.