“Precussionista is her name”

Moon Middle School, Oke, OK. Circa 1983, 6th grade. I met my first love, he had been touched many times, but no one ever touch him like I could and like I did.

When I kissed and smacked his big shiny head and produced sounds, and waves, with rhythms & grooves, I knew then that I was hooked, addicted to the sticks of love, like a crack fiend to a pipe filled with rocks.

It became so natural for me, every time I would play with this toy, I became a master at it, and other school mates would come and beg me to show them how to get down and dirty.

They wondered how I could flip it, and make it sound like a whip? “Snap, crackle, and pop”- Boom went the sound when the bass drum dropped.

A skilled surgeon on the percussion is what I became. Every time I tapped that ass, I’d make him scream my name- “Precussionista, Precussionista!” Is what he would say, its been at least 10 years since I last tapped it and my life hasn’t been the same…

Playing the drums (all kinds) is not just a hobby, it’s a passion of mine, making music I believe is in my bloodline. I miss playing my drums. When I am not playing them, I feel like I’m just wasting my life and wasting my time.

- MaMa Deuce