You look just like Buddy Helm

excerpt: “History of the groove” Russel Buddy Helm ©2014 all rights reserved

2001.

She was standing next to me in line at a pot luck lunch in a beautiful lakeside state park in the wooded hills of southern Indiana amongst a bevy of sweet well fed midwesterners who were celebrating something I wasn’t quite sure of. “Has anyone told you that you look exactly like Buddy Helm?” she said sincerely as we scooped potato salad onto our dixie plates.
“No. Never.” I said.
“You really do.” she insisted.
“I am Buddy Helm.” I eased her mind.
She squinted up at me, “What are you doing here?”
I did a drumming workshop at a farm up the road a few miles and they brought me here. I’m gonna play a little.”
“You want to come down to the Gulf coast and drum at our retreat center outside of Gulfport, Mississippi?”
I set up a whole string of gigs Eastward from the Crescent City. I was having a great time planning strategy and booking dates. But still didn’t have anything in New Orleans. I thought it was odd. When I arrived in Asheville, North Carolina, Katrina hit and I realized that I was very lucky not to have been there. The Goddess of the Crossroads might have been looking over what I was doing and putting in a protective hand. Someone seemed to.

excerpt: “History of the groove” Russel Buddy Helm ©2014 all rights reserved

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