I live in a duplex with a very thin wall separating my house from that of my neighbor. In 2003 the two teenagers next door received a drum set from their dad as a Christmas present. The daily booming, crashing and banging began forth-with. This was sometimes accompanied by various screeches made with electric guitar. As I write this, I am quite taken by surprise that these drummer boys are actually getting good at playing those drums. The daily practice, the crashing a banging about, the over and over again kick snare high-hat routines have worked and the boys are getting good. It is quite a pleasure now to stand in my living-room and hear and feel the increasingly complex vibrations of what might soon enough be real music. Thanks boys for remembering and reminding me that practice is still a good way to learn how to do something. I think I’ll sit down and play some scales now.