When I opened my drum studio in midtown Manhattan many years ago, I wanted to attract advanced young drummers who were hoping to make a career in music. I assumed that it would be more rewarding and interesting than working with beginners. I had lots of challenging drum charts that hungry students would want to sink their teeth into. It’s also a nice ego-boost for the teacher when he gets to demonstrate his own flashy technique to a motivated student.

But over time, I’ve grown to prefer helping someone discover, for the first time, that they can create an intricate rhythm pattern on a drum set. Taking a young child, who can barely reach the foot pedals when they start, and watching them grow and improve week- by-week is the greatest reward for a teacher. In recent years the majority of my student roster are adults rediscovering drums from their youth. Others are deciding to finally take up an instrument, but have never had the time (or courage) to take lessons. Many of them don’t own a drum set, but just enjoy coming in to play along with pre-recorded music.

When I first came to New York in 1974 the city was a mess! Crime was high, the graffiti covered subways were always breaking down. We suffered through garbage strikes, blackouts and the lack of other public amenities because the city was on the verge of bankruptcy. Many older musicians I met would regale me with stories of the New York music scene in the 50s and 60s. The recording studios were cranking out sessions. There were big bands, live television orchestras and huge Broadway pit orchestras. By the mid-70s, the big bands were dead, much of the recording was moving to California and fear of crime and a weak economy was leaving many Broadway houses dark.

None of that bothered me though. The vibrancy of this city kept me pumped. I worked my way up the musical success ladder. The Disco era came and went. I did a lot of recording and touring. Eventually working with many of my childhood heros. NY Drumers

In the early ‘80s, as drum machines and synthesizers became more prevalent, I feared for the future of the professional free-lance musician. I continued teaching throughout those years, but I was becoming depressed. How could I encourage anyone to become a musician when the future looked so bleak? My life had already come full circle. I saw myself as one of those older players longing for the "good old days." Then, recently I realized that music won’t stop being made by human beings. Creative people will find a new outlet for self-expression. Styles will always be changing. But a versatile performer who can adapt and change with them, will survive!