Seriously, they’re like crack dealers. Mrs. Devil and I were on our way food shopping last night, when the brightly lit storefront somehow caught our attention. Maybe it was the ‘brightly’ bit. Maybe it wasn’t so bright; maybe it didn’t need to be, relying on the addiction to draw in the crowds. I don’t know.
But an hour or so later (like similar dens of ill repute, exact times are hard to come by), we’re shamefully heading back to the van … having given up food for a new cajon.
It’s a beautiful work of art with a rich and delicate sound. Most of my rhythms are pickup or traditional African (djembe), so exploring this will be quite a journey — even getting a feel for the technique promises to be quite a joy.
Of course, there are two of us, so it looks like there’s another trip in our future…
Anyone else feed their addiction lately?