The Original Drum Battle!

 

Happy Father's Day from Greenwich to you and yours.

I tweeted a picture of the album cover in the picture at the top of the post. The concert -- at Carnegie Hall, as part of the "Jazz at the Philharmonic" series -- was recorded in 1952 and released on vinyl in 1960.

It was among the most precious of my father's records, along with his cherished copy of Benny Goodman's "Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Concert" that was released in 1950. I have that one also.

But when I think of my dad, I think of "The Original Drum Battle" and how, in no uncertain terms, he firmly believed that Gene Krupa definitively kicked Budy Rich's ass.

This was Babe Ruth versus anyone else to him. This was The Beatles against all challengers. You stood no chance.

And so, I will not debate.

Mom and Dad in Mahopac, circa 1976.
This picture hung on Mom's dresser mirror until the day she died.

He'd play the record often and if the house was empty, it would shake. I mean, I could hear the music outside and the windows rattling if the house was closed up.

Now that I live in an apartment, I don't want all of Bruce Park -- heck, all of Greenwich for that matter -- to hear Rich, Krupa, and their bands -- to be inundated with this masterpiece.

It took me several years before I ever found this on CD and when I finally did -- in the early 2000s, I think -- I equally treasured it. When I purged my collection for the move, it survived and made it here to Greenwich.

There are literally hundreds of CDs that I donated to Goodwill but this one will remain with me.

The CD (released as "The Drum Battle") has extra audio on the last song -- "Perdido" that features the magnificence of Ella Fitzgerald scatting and singing her heart out. I can only assume it was a time issue that kept Ella off the vinyl release.

Jazz on a Sunday morning used to be my standard. In fact, if it wasn't jazz, I'd concoct some kind of musical brunch to sip my coffee with. To that end, I probably need a better Bluetooth speaker or something else so I can do this on my balcony.

For this morning, running it through my actual stereo was simply golden. And, more perfect, was opting to play the record, spinning it for the first time in years. What pleased me was how crisp it still sounded. The quality was tremendous with no scratches or skipping.

For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, put my head back, and let the music wash over me. In a time of tremendous reflection, I was able to pause and just...be.

I pictured Dad in his recliner doing the same.

That's when I posted the album cover on social media. It was a reminder to honor those lost and celebrate those with us. Not just "natural" fathers but those who are positive figures in life. I'm thrilled to be Sean's father and Rascal's guardian (though can anyone truly corral him?) and, hopefully, a mentor and supporter for many others. I also think about my own dad and the many who have been role models for me over the years.

A wall of honor (apologies to Chris Erway for any crooked pictures)

Sean and Rascal gave me a card and ULTIMATE chocolate chip cookies. Let us be quite clear: Sean will be the one devouring the cookies.

Can it be a day of sadness? Sure. But it's a day of joy and reflection as well.

It's also a Sunday and a beautiful one at that.

So I'm going to enjoy it. 

I hope you do also.

And, if you can, go have a catch with your dad.

(And make sure it's clear nobody is better than Babe Ruth, The Beatles, and Gene Krupa. Of course.)