A Random Call That Hit Me In The Feels

I remember my first interaction with Lonnie Boyd Jones Sr. and it was during my early days at the Venice Beach Drum Circle. After warming up for a while by the Boardwalk with the guys we headed towards the sand. I thought I’d help him with his instruments. So as we were walking side by side, he asked how long I have been playing; to which I replied as I long as I can remember and that I would always drum on benches and desks. He then remarked that as soon as I put my hands on the djembe he knew that I was a player.



“You know what you do?” He asked. I curiously inquired. “You count. Most people just play,” he said. After a brief moment of reflection I explained that even though it occurs subconsciously, but yes, apparently I do count. And it was Lonnie who first noticed. 




Lonnie the inspirational Venice Beach Drum Circle icon

“Music is a hidden arithmetic exercise of the soul, which does not know that it is counting.”
— Gottfried Leibniz 

Almost three years later, a friend and I had an idea for a documentary about the VBDC. We gathered some old-timers, including Lonnie, and began shooting. This was when I reminded him of his remark and how it boosted my self-esteem on those first days at The Circle. He proceeded to explain how pleasant it is to play with someone who counts: And that’s because you can synchronise with them by doing your own counting, which has a magnificent effect on the music and the final melody.


During the interview I was stunned to know that Lonnie is 90 years young — the age of my grandparents. Yet he still makes it almost every weekend to the beach with his instruments just to jam with the rest of us. What an inspiration. 

He actually became my living example of “age is just a number”. I mean, we all know those who became ‘old’ way earlier in life, while look at Lonnie kicking ass with his sweet tunes week after week. I think he serves as a huge wake-up call to many who allow life to live them rather than the other way round. Be like Lon and do something you are passionate about instead of watching TV all day long, slowly decaying.

More can be found on A Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2014-’15), its Sequel: Another Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2016-’17), and the Threequel: One More Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2017-’18.

Alex and Lonnie getting ready for interview

Fast forward to a few days ago when I found a missed call from an unknown number. A while later, it was followed by another, then a message on the voicemail. To my surprise, it was Lonnie. It was the Full Lunacy Drum Circle gathering that night so I couldn’t call him back. You see, I had never told him about it since we start at 6 pm, so I assumed it may be too late for someone who’s in his 90s. But I was dead wrong — as we’ll see.

The next day, Lonnie called back twice, leaving more messages. When I returned the call, he didn’t pick up and it was my turn to leave a message. Two more missed calls from him before I finally called back and he picked up. 

All this time I was sincerely wondering what it was. In fact, once I dialled his number that last time I had a pen and paper ready for some odd reason I had a feeling that I would need them.

“Hey, Brother. 



“Is this the famous Omar Cherif? I couldn’t reach you for days.” He jokingly said. “I hope you’re doing well my Brother. I wanted to ask you about that documentary we shot some months ago.”



I explained that Alex is finalising it and it should be ready soon. “Whenever it will be, we will all get together somewhere to watch it.”


He then suddenly said “You’ll need to write that down!” 



Oh, well the pen was actually in my hand. He gave me his address, explaining how to get there from Venice. 

I said I will definitely pass by someday, though also mentioning that I don’t have a car. The man then didn’t hesitate to say that he can pass by to pick me up anytime in his. How cute. You can even see him holding his phone in our featured photo together because he insisted to take another one using it. Auwh. 

Carrying on the phone conversation: “You know I like you, Omar, and I want to hang out sometimes. Because I know how much of a good person you truly are.”



His words hit me in the feels, causing my sympathetic nervous system to produce goosebumps all over my body along some watery eyes. I thanked him for the heartfelt words, mentioning that coming from him it’s even more humbling. 



“I love you, man,” I blurted out.



“I love you too, Brother.

“We’ll speak soon and make it happen. Have a wonderful night.” 




Long Live Lonnie The Beautiful Soul.

Lonnie Jones along his drums at Dockweiler Beach on the first day
he made it to Full Lunacy Drum Circle — 30 April 2018

EDIT:

After publishing this article about the Random Call That Hit Me In The Feels
, on one of the Full Lunacy Drum Circles I arrived to Dockweiler Beach by 17:30 am. It wasn’t dark yet, so one could still see pretty well. Then Lo and Behold, I was flabbergasted to see someone who looks and walks like Lonnie coming towards us while pulling his heavy drums on the sand. I had to rub my eyes multiple times to make sure it was indeed him, before proceeding to go help. This was followed by a few more times when he left quite late, resulting in us become even closer.

“My great grandmothers are Navajo Native American Indians. They’ve been the rock that kicked my young ass. Taught me how to live and act like one of God’s best children. Those lessons kept me in school and out of prison. My old ass still holds on to those principles: Treat all humans and animals with respect,” Lonnie once told me.

Despite the 50 years of difference between us, Lonnie and I became true buddies who hold an incomprehensible soul-II-soul connection. After first meeting at the Venice Beach Drum Circle, then taking part in a documentary we made about the history of the place, followed by the phone call things just organically developed between us. Ever since we remained in contact.

Almost all alone at Dockweiler getting ready before starting at 6 pm.

Lonnie even agreed to an idea that has been flirting with my mind of having a documentary about his life; from a five-year-old kid landing in North Carolina to work in the fields, to his first sexual experience at 13, to heroin addiction (You too? he asked), to wife and kids and grandkids, to ending in Venice Beach drumming with meself the following century. He certainly has an interesting story to tell. I hope I can help him do just that.

The below photo was taken on our last meeting at the Drum Circle. “I know you’re leaving soon so I came to play with you one last time until we meet again,” he said. What an honour. Patiently waiting to reunite with him again and get that doc over with while help sharing his story with the world. Long Live Lonnie Jones!

EDIT 2 [December 2021]:

We found out through his daughter who posted on our Drummers and Dancers of Venice, CA on Facebook that on Sunday 5th of December 2021 Lonnie Boyd Jones Sr. passed on to his next adventure. He has touched everyone he knew with his radiant larger-than-life personality and he will be dearly missed. Some brothers and sisters from the VBDC were able to drum a little at the end of the funeral which took place the following Friday in Gardena ca. May Lonnie Jones Soul Rest In Eternal Peace.

ALSO VIEW:

A Letter That Hit Me In The Feels

For The Love Of Storytelling

Rooting Into The Past

My Correspondence With a 31-Year-Old Reader Before He Passed Away

Some People I Shot

The Night We Turned ‘Beast Mode’ On

A Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2014-’15)

Another Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos

One More Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2017-’18

A Wacky Day Out at LA Burning Man Decompression in Photos & Video

The Intertwining of Music and Sexuality ― A Djembefola’s Tale

How Inspiration is Transferable

A Saturday Evening with an Old Brotherman & His Doggy

Why I Share Stuff

The Night I Became a Stripper

Give That Man Some Groceries

The Bloke Who Thought I’m Too Much of an “Alpha Male”

One of my first Craigslist rentals in Venice Beach when first arriving in March of last year (2014) was the attic of a majestic 1904 house. I was sharing the “Red Barn” with four-five other people, two cats, and a dog. Everything was going pretty smooth until one night we all went bowling.  

One of the guys is an English starting actor in his early 30s. He is short, fit, and happens to be a boxer. We were all having drinks while we played except him as he had some lines to memorise.

At some point during the end, I headed towards him to ask about something he had told me he would hook me up with but never did. Then all of a sudden, the bloke punched me in the chest. I took a step backwards and tripped over a bowling shoe and fell. As some friends came to separate us, I got up and calmly told him:
What are you doing, man? Where is that anger coming from?

It seemed quite obvious that at the time the lad had some inner issues — probably with me personally but certainly also with himself. 

This happening took me by complete surprise. And I do not mean the part where he punched me; I mean the part where, for the first time in my life, I didn’t react to violence using violence. This time, it felt like I wasn’t capable of getting angry as I used to.

The next morning I heard some knocking on my attic door. It was him asking if he could come up the stairs, to which I said yes. He apologised for what he did, saying that I’m like an older brother to him. I said it’s all good and even gave him a hug after we shook hands.

As I later pondered what happened, I felt proud of the new me. Back in the days, I would have blacked out and acted instantly, probably in a vicious way like it happened multiple times. This could be the first time in my life that I do not react, but choose to respond instead, and calmly too. It felt really wonderful to see the fruits of mastering oneself. The daily meditation must have been really doing the job.

Feeling proud of my novel, Gandhi-like behaviour, I shared the story on Facebook and got many encouraging comments. 

During my stay, a couple were getting married: An American T.V director and a Swiss woman. I even lent him one of my ties and used my camera to take photos and videos of the small gathering in the garden. It was this him who once told me to stick to the blog, when I said I am not fit for pleasing the public.  

It later became obvious that the marriage was a Green Card thing, because I bumped into the woman in Lemonade less than a couple of years later with another man, a European one. Which reminded me by that one way for me to become an American resident.   

What I haven’t shared, though, was the final confrontation I had with the angry tosser before leaving the house.

On my last day, I said goodbye to everyone as I was waiting for the cab. I then thought I’d also say goodbye to him since he was right there, perhaps with a little “friendly reminder”.

“Good luck, man, I hope your life works out great. And remember, he who angers you controls you,” I smilingly said after a handshake.

“No,” he defensively replied as he stood there in his towel [as usual].

So as the first time I told him when he came to apologise, I once again said that this anger stems from something within him, not from me. To get physical with anyone who is only talking to you about some random topic and not even causing you a threat is certainly not me, it’s him.

Stuttering, he said: “No, I don’t agree, you invaded my private space.”

“I was only talking to you

,” I responded confidently. 

“You were in my face that whole night. And you were drinking.” 

“Being the only one who wasn’t drinking, that’s an even bigger reason why you should have never made it physical,” I told him, “I was SPEAKING to you and wasn’t threatening you in any way.”



 “Well, that’s what people like us do,” he confessed.



“You mean angry people, people who don’t know how to communicate?” I cut him off. 

“You know if this had happened a few years ago, I would have smashed your head with a bowling ball then get into a fit of hysterical laughter as I gaze at your bloody face in utter amusement. But now, I’m a peaceful warrior and my weapon is Love.” 

He should have read The Night We Turned ‘Beast Mode’ On and When Bullying my Sister Led to Shutting Her School Down With a Rambo Knife to be grateful for the fact that I’ve radically changed. 

Shaking his head in disagreement like an emotional child and stuttering even more: “No, you wouldn’t have been able to do that. Why do you think you can give me advice? You were doing drugs in your past and you like to drink and smoke.”


Nothing really, only that I have lived four years more than him. And the fact that he brought that out now after I had once told you about my 20s meant he was out of things to say.

And then finally he spat it out: “Since you came here… you’re so… Alpha Male... .” 

He really said that. Of course at the time I couldn’t hold smiling in disbelief. But it was a genuine Aha-Moment that spoke volumes. “Alpha Male”, who uses that term seriously? 

Interestingly, he was the one who often wore only a towel around the house where three women lived, and he was the one boxing training every morning in the garden. So that “Alpha Male” thing is most probably a mere projection of his insecurity. 
 


In my head then I realised that connecting with his inner person seems to be a lost cause. I found an insecure, troubled individual who is fighting himself and certainly not accepting it. I remember keeping my smile and telling him “Good luck man, take care. Maybe get a dog or something” before taking my bags and leaving. Not sure where that get a dog bit came from; but it came out as it is. 

Around the same time in 2014, I used my experience of sharing homes with strangers to write Artists Between Mindset and Motivation here on One Lucky Soul.  

 

Also the humorous, Things I Couldn’t Quite Understand After Being On The Road For Seven Months [with Photos].
 
Then there is, A Dollar & Thirty Four Cents in Me Pocket and Feeling Fine. 

More adventures are found in Chronicling The Journey series here on One Lucky Soul. 

Catclysmic: Lounging gato along with my own reflection

Having a knack for human behaviour and wanting to understand why things turned out this way, I later reflected upon what had happened between us during those first couple of weeks until that bowling night. 

At the very start of my stay, I read the bloke a few lines I had written about sharing the house with him and the others. He said: It’s good that you write. I wish I could write, I don’t know how to.

Another time, I told him that since he trains almost everyday, drinking lots of water would be good for him. Oddly, he didn’t seem convinced and said that he doesn’t have to, or something idiotic like that. 

 
A few days later, he mentioned to me that he’s always hungry. So I asked if he doesn’t usually eat full meals because he doesn’t cook. My assumption came from never seeing him cook and always seeing him nibbling on some nuts or other small snacks. Again, I felt him get slightly defensive, but I don’t think he denied it.

On more time, I jokingly told him: “If you don’t eat yer meat, you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?” And the guy had no idea what I was talking about. Being an English actor in his early thirties, I thought he was kidding. But apparently he wasn’t, and he didn’t even know what The Wall by Pink Floyd is! Where did he live before reaching L.A, you wonder. 

Then some days later we were alone in the kitchen when he said, “Too many fucking shitty jobs.” I nodded in agreement — as if. 
 
This is when I thought about his anger and linked it to his career as a starting actor in Hollywood and all the difficulties, rejections, and insecurities they have to face to come close to “making it”. Speaking of, there is The Joy of Being a Wanderer and the Credit Card Number when I happened to stay at another starting actor’s house in Santa Monica.  

Contemplating al the above, it appears to me that things have been building up until that bowling night. Whatever the bloke’s reasons were, getting physical is never justified.

You see, the fight angry people are fighting is not with others, it’s with themselves. Once we understand this, we can indeed lead a peaceful life even in the face of violence. For he who angers you truly controls you.

A couple of years afterwards I came to find out that he follows me on social media. Ha, good for him maybe?  


As a more serious endnote: How to deal with anger?

Well, whenever we begin looking at angry people as children who cannot control their tempter, it becomes almost impossible to get back at them. For this very awareness of the nature of their anger tends to shield us from being dragged into their storm. Again, many are essentially angry at themselves. Their fight is not really with others, but it’s within them. That is all.

It actually took me years to realise that the outbursts of rage and fits of anger some people close to me would occasionally get into were nothing but involuntary cries of help masked as emotional expressions. If, then, we are not able to respond with love, thereby act as the “bigger person” in the equation, assuming the observer position offers quite the amusing spectacles.

☮ Peace Out ☮



ALSO VIEW:


Hotel Living: Then and Now

Countering Gentrification — Eating Cheap and Healthy in Venice Beach [With a List of Places and Their Menus]

Things I Couldn’t Quite Understand After Being On The Road For Seven Months 

Why Hippies Are Sometimes Called Bohemians

The Joy of Being a Wanderer and the Credit Card Number

A Dollar & Thirty Four Cents in Me Pocket and Feeling Fine 

Personal Questions I’m Often Asked and Their Answers

The Ashram Sweeper Who Blocked Me on Facebook

The Bloke Who Thought I’m Too Much of an Alpha Male

The Girl Who Wouldn’t Share Toilet Paper

Not Sleeping With a French Hooker at 14

The Spell of the Topless Redhead 

The Night We Turned ‘Beast Mode’ On

When Bullying my Sister Led to Shutting Her School Down With a Rambo Knife

The Night I Became a Stripper in Spain

The Day I Became Bill Gate’s Elevator Boy

Placebo Effect & The LSD Prank

The Joy of Being a Wanderer and the Credit Card Number

I Kissed a Grandma... and I Liked It

When Lady Ran Away

When The Puppies Ate The “Chocolate”