


It was 1964/1965 and The Beatles were all anyone could talk about.
Girls brought their Beatle dolls, pins and purses to school.
Beatle lunchboxes were the only thing to carry your PB&J sandwich in.
They were everywhere and on everything.
I was 10 years old and decided drumming would be my life’s calling.
Why not right?
Not a professional baseball player.
Not a Doctor, to my parents dismay.
Not even an aspiring artist, which I already exhibited a real talent for.
But a drummer, just like Ringo Starr.
You see, there was this drum.
Not just any drum.
A toy drum, not even a REAL drum.
But this drum was different.
It had Ringo and The Beatles faces and names emblazoned
all over the packaging and the drum itself.
It must be THE DRUM that Ringo thinks is the best right?
If I’m going to be as good as him, I had to have this.
No substitute.
It was this or nothing.
It was all I wanted and asked for that Christmas.
Sounding a little like Ralphie from a Christmas Story right?
I grew up in a predominantly Italian/Irish neighborhood.
My parents were dead poor.
So we celebrated Christmas, without the tree on Christmas day.
As much as a hoped, begged and pleaded for this, it never came.
Probably couldn’t afford it that year.
So instead, I got “The Big Bash Drum.”
A knockoff.
No Ringo face or decal.
No Beatles.
No fancy packaging.
Plastic, orange with a stand and sticks.
This drum is so obscure, I couldn’t even find any reference on it.
But….I found plenty on the drum I wanted.
The Ringo Drum Set by Selcol Industries.
Someday I’ll buy myself one.
