THE LITTLE OLD DRUMMER BOY

Christmas time in Australia is unpredictable. It is rarely cold, sometimes wet, often boiling, and what was grass is dry as dust even in the city. The heat is sometimes dry and comfortable, but it is often humid and one of those things you tolerate; the weather patterns play havoc with hay fever, asthma and temperaments. Troy did not know any other kind of Christmas.

He had been in two minds whether or not to attend the “muso” party ostensibly for Christmas, but most likely an excuse for a BBQ booze-up. Fortunately, the weather was behaving itself. He knew there would be noise, chatter, mea culpa melodrama, and the other bits and bobs associated with music and musicians. It was rare to find a musician who could perform well and also be level headed, at least that had been Troy’s experience. Though a drummer, he was technically still a musician. He dabbled a bit with guitar, but it was easier to keep to the beat rather than strum: he could be part of the group and still be disengaged if he desired. He suspected he was a little bored with it all but had no alternative hobbies. In short, he was at the party under sufferance.

As a boy he watched the Salvation Army band at Christmas: its stirring rendition of carols almost paved the way for the Christmas hype and activity. He was old enough to remember when the Salvation Army’s open-air meetings were part and parcel of Sundays instead of a nuisance to those who wanted a sleep in. Yet like soldiers of any army, time marched on along with fashions, taste and good manners.

As part of a would-be band, his interest in music remained fluid. It did not matter to him that it was Beatles or modern; Troy Sanderson was too old to learn new tricks and too young to give up. He was however jaded. He sat quietly in the corner, half-listening to his mate, Jim, carry on about the weather and how it was affecting the crops. “Big Deal!” as comedian (the late) Benny Hill used to say.

Fortunately, another muso friend, also the host came across to them.

“G’day fellas. Fancy a beer, or something soft? Oh, uh, the wife is passing nibbles around. The snags and stuff come later.”

“The wife, Rob?” teased Troy “did you call her that, the day you took your vows? Because for part of that day she would still have been the fiancée or more accurately, your fiancée!”

Rob laughed “Good one Troy.” he drew on the cigarette “my wife’s name is Pat, and her helper is Toni, our daughter. Must push on.”

“You got him there Troy.” said Jim “I hate that too. Clearly, Rob was a little embarrassed.”

“Yeah, Jim. It is so rude, or maybe I’m jealous and selfish and…”

“Come on Troy. I hear what you are saying and being disrespectful is irritating.” said Jim “as for being selfish? Nah not you; many another I could pin that on but not you.” Jim got up to stretch his legs.

“Can I get you a beer, you have that can’t be bothered look about you, mate.” Troy nodded

“Be back in a jiff.”

Troy suspected Jim was right. Christmas brought back too many memories and though his sister had him over on the day, Sue was long gone but not forgotten. He would not have dared call her “the wife”.

“Hello, stranger.” It was Lola the singer She sat beside him and sipped her wine.

“Have you got a drink, love? you look a wee bit sad.”

“I’m fine Lols, Jim was going to get me a beer, ah that might be him now with Pat.”

Sure enough, the two of them were giggling over something.

“Hey Troy its time you ate something.” said Pat “oh and thanks for sticking up for me. I have heard our Toni refer to me as 'Mum the menace', but that’s okay. I was not the Mum…”

“Better than being the Mummy,” said Troy

“Gosh yes,” said Pat “I don’t fancy going to Egypt, and Mummies give me the willies.” and she walked away laughing.

“Did Rob say anything about a jam session to you guys?” asked Lola

“No but it would not be a problem.” said Jim “are the drums still here?”

Troy nodded “Sure thing. I was advised to bring them early, as in during the week”

The afternoon wore on, then Rob came over

“Fancy a jam session guys?” he asked “Most of the neighbours are here anyway so there won’t be any complaints. We could just do some carols couldn’t we?”

“How about we warm up first, Rob?” asked Lola

“Oh, okay Lola.” said Rob nodding his head “I will leave it to you.”

The good old hummers the kind that people nodded their heads to, or sing out of tune but enjoy were chosen: “Can’t buy me, Love.” “The Long And Winding Road”, “Georgy Girl,” and a few others

Then, Lola stood at the microphone.

“Well folks it is Christmas and I’m going to sing an old favourite.  My Dad hated it because it was so repetitive; I loved it for the message. Sing with me if you like. The Little Drummer Boy.”

It was Troy’s big moment too.  He had heard and accompanied it so often that hauntingly beautiful  composition by Songwriters: Harry Simeone / Henry V Onorati / Katherine Kennicot Davis / Lorenzo Definti

“Come they told me Pa rum pum pum pum

A new born King to see Pa rum pum pum pum

Our finest gifts we bring Pa rum pum pum pum

To lay before the king Pa rum pum pum pum,

Rum pum pum pum,

Rum pum pum pum

So to honour Him Pa rum pum pum pum

When we come

Lola's voice was soft

Little baby Pa rum pum pum pum

I am a poor boy too

Pa rum pum pum pum

I have no gift to bring Pa rum pum pum pum

That's fit to give our king

Pa rum pum pum pum,

Rum pum pum pum,

Rum pum pum pum

Shall I play for you? Pa rum pum pum pum

on my drum?

Troy was on automatic pilot now. When last did he give his gift back? When did it stop being a joy and start being a job? When did he really appreciate what he had without asking for or expecting more? All he did was make music an Oscar-winning performance instead of coming from the heart and sounding genuine.

Financially he was not poor, but inside he was. He was selfish and bitter, sarcastic and lonely; worse when others had much less than he had but enjoyed life, he could not care less. He would never laugh at Little Drummer Boy again, but he was not quite ready to go back to his roots and march, beating the drum of faith.

 He realised why Lola, loved the carol. It brought Christmas back into perspective and this holiday season; this Holy season things were going to be different.  Troy powered into the drums with vigour and a smile on his face.