A young drummer, Turkish, makes his meagre pro drumming existance playing drums for traditional Turkish music in an Istanbul cafe.
He dreams of playing be bop jazz and for years scrimps, saves every last dollar he can.
Finally he has enough money and he's of to New York. He takes lessons from Morello, Chapin, Ed Soph.. every jazz cat he can. He practices 18 hours a day.
Finally though the money runs out, but man this cat can play.
He returns to Turkey broke, but with a bag of skill, attitude and chops.
Still, money's money and you have to pay the bills, so he ends up back in the old band, playing the same music in the same cafe.
But this time, throws in syncopated 5's, half note triplet bombs, 32nd's on the left hand ..he's all over this kit like a rash.
Cooking!
The band leader comes up to him during a break and tells him
"Man, we just want a strong 7 and 13"
--------------------
Once again, I find myself at the beginning
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