Comparing old and new: Ludwig P-359 and Volkwein’s Tom’s Pad

I have a fondness for tunable pads, particularly the old Ludwig P-359 (8”) and P-360 (10”), and I’m also a fan of the Tom’s Pad from Volkwein’s Music. The former was at its height of production from the late 1960s through around 1980. Tom’s Pad went into production around ten years ago, long after the demise of the Ludwig models. 

I had an opportunity to obtain a second Tom’s Pad today, and when I brought it home, I immediately took it apart. I did so because this pad came with a Ludwig-branded head and I wanted to see if it was the same as the old heads from the Ludwig pad.  Tom’s Pad comes with a specially-branded head made by Remo, and is meant to take Remo practice pad replacement heads. The Remo head will not fit on an old Ludwig pad because the hoop of the heads differs in width and depth.

I have pieces of an old Ludwig P-359 pad on hand and would like to replace the very worn head that came with it. Since Ludwig no longer makes parts for these older pads, it’s a bit of luck to find parts that can be swapped in.

I took the Tom’s Pad apart, and discovered that the construction is nearly identical to that of the P-359. The only meaningful difference is in the metal rim.

As you can see from the photos, the components are nearly identical. The foam insert for the Ludwig pad is slightly thinner, but still curves down towards the edges like the thicker insert from the Tom’s Pad.

The other difference is that the hardware for the newer pad is a thicker Allen bolt that screws into threaded receivers in the base,w hole the hardware for the P-359 was an odd, over-engineered design using threaded bolts that were pressed into the base from underneath, and square nuts (which fit a standard drum key) screwed on from above to tighten the rim and head against the base. On both pads, a smaller wooden disc sits under the head and above the base, the foam rubber and head held in place above that by the rim and bolts. 

In both cases, only the pressure of tightening the bolts held everything together. (This is not unlike the approach used in Beetle Percussion’s “Last Pad,” the double-sided design of which I reviewed earlier. I will receive the single-sided version of the pad for testing and review closer to Spring.)

The hoop of both Ludwig heads is nearly identical, which tells me that they would both work on the P-359 pad. However, the Tom’s Pad came with a lot of wrinkles in the newer Ludwig head, and I suspect that may be due to having been stretched over the thicker foam rubber at pressure. When I reassembled the Tom’s Pad, I tensioned it a bit higher than it had been when I brought it home. it didn’t remove the wrinkles entirely, and if I keep this pad I’ll probably replace the head with a Remo practice pad head, which should lay better at tension. I’ll probably set aside the newer Ludwig head as a possible replacement for a P-359.

I decided to see if I could discern any meaningful difference between the response of a P-359 and the Tom’s Pad with the Ludwig head.

Obviously, with this Ludwig pad being at least fifty years old, the head is a little worn and I don’t want to crank it too tight. 

Then, I compared it with the Tom’s a pad with the Remo head.

Volkwein’s offers replacement rubber inserts and heads for the Tom’s Pad. Their replacement heads are embossed with Volkwein’s logo. If you don’t want that, a regular Remo practice pad head should fit just as well.

While comparisons are often made between the Volkwein pad and old Reno tunable pads, the Remo pad base uses a plastic bottom with a deep recess designed to hold foam rubber, with the head stretching over the recess. The result is that the Remo pad sounds hollower — and louder — than the Tom’s Pad.

In truth, the design of the Tom’s Pad is much closer to that of the old Ludwig P-359/360 pads, and in my opinion it’s a design that produces a better tone and feel. 

The Remo pad of the 1960s and 70s holds a special place in my heart because it’s the pad I began learning on. But the sound of that pad grated on my parents’ nerves, and successive generations of students were encouraged to find something else to practice on as soon as they showed they were serious about continuing with drums. I keep a few Remo pads in my collection to this day, but welcome play on them now. The Ludwig P-259 and 360, on the other hand, are in regular rotation on my practice pad stand. They’re solid and feel great. The Tom’s Pad also sees some chopping time. 

I’ve written to Volkwein’s Music a few times asking — imploring, really — that they consider making this pad in  10” size. Now that I have a better understanding of its design, I can see why they’ve kept with the 8” size. Still, I can dream.

Tom’s Pad is available from a Volkwein’s Music for a retail price of $85 plus shipping. It’s well-made and will last a long time with care. The Ludwig P-359 (8”) can sometimes be found used online, though in varying degrees of condition. The P-360 (10”) shows up far less often, and sells for far more because it’s the more desirable size among collectors and players alike.

Want to make your own practice pad? PadParts.com can set you up.

I wanted to make my own Pad Parts pad, so I did.

Base: 11” green ForesColor.

Side A: 10” x 1/4” gum rubber.

Side B: 10” x 1/4” recycled tire rubber.

To apply the gum rubber, I lightly sanded the facing surfaces and used the Medium Weight super glue available at Pad Parts. Carefully spread, weighted down overnight and allowed to dry another two days in a well-ventilated shed before bringing it inside.

To apply the recycled rubber, I lightly sanded the ForesColor side, and dampened the recycled rubber facing side. Then I applied Gorilla Glue — a better choice for porous or textured surfaces — and followed the same weighting and drying steps.

For reasons I can’t define technically,  like the sound and feel of the recycled tire rubber more on the ForesColor (which I think is similar to Valchromat used on the bases of Beetle pads) than on solid wood. The smaller 11” size is easy to take along in a messenger bag or backpack and sits nicely on my lap, a tabletop or a snare stand.

And I saved money by putting together my own pad.

Color me a happy customer.

Want a nice pad? Do the labor yourself. PadParts.com will set you up with everything you need.

The recycled rubber comes in different thicknesses and is meant to provide a harder, faster surface for those who march high-tension snare drums.

On solid wood, as found in the craft-made pads from Beetle Percussion, the feel and sound are a little bit jarring, and harder on the hands because there’s very little shock absorption and the vibrations travel all the way up the sticks and into your hands.

On the ForesColor base, which I believe is related to the Valchromat base that is found on some Beetle pads, the sound and feel are a little more forgiving, allowing for a greater range of uses, styles and sticks. I like the way my Artifact Etude concert sticks feel on this pad, on both sides — something I wouldn’t enjoy as much on my Beetle Pine Pad with its solid wood base.

PadParts.com is the official side hustle from the same folks that make Beetle Percussion pads. The variety of base materials, playing surfaces, thicknesses and sizes allow for a wide range of possibilities so you can come up with a practice pad to suit your specific needs. PadParts also offers various industrial glues to provide optimal adhesion for your pad. If you have questions about how to work with these materials and glues, just reach out to PadParts.com and ask for instructions and suggestions. 

And remember, when using industrial glues, wear gloves and eye protection, work in a well-ventilated garage or outside, and allow to dry weighted down for twenty-four hours before bringing the finished pad into the house. 

Happy drumming!

Vintage Corner: Leedy practice pad, 1930s-40s

I have a fondness for the older, larger tilt pads that were popular between 1930 and 1970.

I’m especially excited about pads dating from the first half of this age spread. They tend to have a slightly steeper tilt angle and a larger rubber playing surface. The reddish rubber surface tends to keep its rebound for a reasonably long time if it’s stored indoors and taken care of. If it’s left outside, the rubber degrades quickly, becoming unplayable.

Dating some of these pads can be challenging due to any or all of the following reasons:

— Pad designs from this era tended to be similar across multiple companies, and were not changed often;

— Available materials were similar, due to availability of both materials and types of rubber processing;

— Major drum companies changed hands multiple times between the mid 1930s and the mid 1950s, meaning that branding had to change along with ownership. Good examples of this include Ludwig, Leedy, WFL, George Way and Camco. There are others.

Thanks to the efforts of the fellow who created and maintains the DrumArchive web library, hundreds of pdfs of historic drum catalogs and fliers can be examined and the pictorial evidence found can help confirm what started as a hunch as to the year a pad was made and sold. A recent deep dive into the archive helped me determine the maker and age range of this pad, which now makes it one of my oldest vintage pads.

I obtained this pad last spring, and couldn't figure out who had made it or when.

The reddish rubber on top is likely original, though that's impossible to prove. Also, there's no decal on the wood anywhere. So all I have to go on is the design, including the size and shape of the wood panels and any distinguishing features.

The bottom panel has a circular cutout that appears to serve as a sound enhancer.

The rear-facing support panel has carved-out sides that add some flair to the pad's appearance. 

If you turn the pad over, the bottom is made of a very thin fiberboard, which covers the sound hole. Presumably, this fiber bottom has no function.

Or does it?

Going into the Drum Archive, I looked through multiple listing of Ludwig catalogs, and found nothing resembling that shape or style.

But when I turned to catalogs from Leedy Drums, I discovered that they had made this very pad, including the shape of the support panel, the sound hole and the fiber bottom -- which was actually designed to be a second practice surface. Leedy sold this model as their "Two-Way" Practice Pad.

Drum Archive has Leedy catalogs starting in 1933, and my pad appears in every Leedy catalog from 1933 through 1949. The next catalog on file dates from 1953, by which time the company was called Leedy & Ludwig. Conn owned both companies and merged them by 1950. (In 1955, Leedy was sold to Slingerland Drums, and Bill Ludwig, Sr. bought back the Ludwig Drum Company and merged it with what was left of his own WFL Drum Company. By 1965, Leedy was on the wane, and was completely subsumed into Slingerland the following year.)

Earlier versions of the Two-Way pad appear to have been made with a lighter color of rubber, but since everything was printed in black and white there's no way to confirm what color the rubber was unless I find a much earlier version of the pad. I'd guess that either the white rubber was replaced, or more likely the reddish rubber came into use during World War II because high grades of rubber were being rationed.

This pad still sounds and feels good, though the rebound of the rubber is slightly lessened with age. The fiber bottom is intact and I have tried playing lightly on it with skinny sticks, but I won't make a habit of this. It's similar to the fiber that was also being used for drum cases for decades, though perhaps a little bit thinner and now a bit warped in the center. I'm glad it's still there. Now that I've been able to date this I can determine that it's among the oldest pads in my collection. I can't really estimate its age much beyond a range from between 1933 and roughly 1949, but that still makes this pad between 76 and 92 years old. That it's still in quite playable condition is remarkable, since practice pads of this era were generally among the cheapest items in a catalog and among the most abused by school drummers. When one survives in such good shape, that makes it a real find.

Made in China. But at what cost to US makers?

The annual convention of the Percussive Arts Society is happening this weekend in Indianapolis.

PASIC features lots of workshops, performances and a gigantic marketplace where drum companies display their latest releases of new product.

I've never been and likely won't ever make it to a PAS Convention. But I'm confident in saying that at least half of what's new on the market this fall will have been manufactured in China.

(You can read my previous posts here about which companies are making their own products in-house, and which are having them made and branded by juggernaut factories in China. The last time I went into specifics, guys from the two biggest US drum companies went all pitbull on me in the socials and it wore me out.)

That drum companies feel compelled to mass-produce cheap pads overseas, mark up the retail by several hundred percentage points and then massage the socials to hype their pads so that kids will want to buy them, is just a sad reality of today's practice pad market. It has been a sad reality of retail for a long time, and there is little you or I can do about it except to point out when things go sideways.

Case in point:

A well-known marching drum instructor and clinician had a signature pad that was produced for several years by a US company. That company made the pads in small quantities in-house in the US and they were immensely popular among marching drummers. The pad was very well made and retailed for a little over $100, a price deemed a little high by the dictates of the modern practice pad market, but understandable because the pad was made in small batches by the guy who was selling it and there wouldn't be a ton of profit in that. (Apparently, you're not supposed to turn a huge profit if you make what you sell. Who knew?)
It became one of the most popular pads in that maker's catalog.

This fall, that instructor told his small US maker to drop his signature pad. He was signing on with a larger company as one of their official artists, and the new company would be offering his pad going forward. 

The catch? The company this instructor has jumped to doesn't actually make any of its own products. They are all made by other manufacturers and embossed with the company's name and logo. In the case of practice pads, the pads for the new company are all made by Hanflag in China. Hanflag makes pads and rebrands them for a bunch of American-based companies including RCP, Salyers and others. 

When you have one factory making products for three or five different companies, those companies have to come up with ways to differentiate from each other in order to sell more units. If they can't find a way to differentiate, then negotiations must be made for one company to drop a pad design and allow another company to market that design under their name. 

(This has just happened with Salyers and RCP, both of which produced an adjustable snare pad that was made by Hanflag -- which also sells the pad under the brand name HUN in Asian markets. Salyers realized that it could not differentiate enough from RCP, and since RCP brought out the pad in the US market first, they are keeping it in their lineup while Salyers has discontinued it. I wasn't a fly on the wall, but I have friends who work in the industry and they have confirmed that this is basically what happened. Good luck finding a Salyers "Stealth" pad now. They're gone. But you can get the exact same design from RCP, which sells it as their "Active Snare" pad.)

What's so maddening about this is that the production is not at all sustainable; the pads use materials that are redundant and harmful for the environment and the factory has to ship them halfway around the globe to get them into the hands of kids in the US market. None of this is good. What makes it worse is when a design is copied -- or altered just enough to avoid copyright infringement -- so that an artist can shift his allegiance from a small-batch craft maker to a larger mass-producer which doesn't even make their own product.

This conversation has already made its way to the socials, and the new design of the pad mentioned above has just been released at PASIC, so I'm not revealing anything new here.

Exhibit A: the original design, made in the US from sustainable, environmentally sensitive materials. The practice rim went all the way around and the top surface had a laminate laid over recycled rubber. A second surface affixed to the bottom provided a different feel and made the pad versatile.

Exhibit B: The new version of this design, altered enough to avoid legal concerns and mass-produced in China from materials that are very likely not as environmentally friendly. The practice rim goes only halfway around the surface, and there doesn't seem to be a laminate (though I won't be surprised if one is sold separately at a premium price).

This new version of the design retails for around $100. Consider how little it costs to make this mass-produced version and you realize that a great deal more of the money will be pure profit for someone who didn't make the pad. (By the rules of this game, the man who owns the company is the one who deserves all the profit he can get. Because he was smart enough to get someone else to make the product for him at pennies on the dollar.)

I'm sure the new version of this pad design is playable, and will sell well enough to justify the switch. The kids who participate in the modern marching arts are all familiar with this instructor and will certainly want to buy this new pad.

The instructor/clinician is a brilliant drummer, has chops for days and also publishes instruction books that are becoming very popular among marching drummers. (The new company will distribute his books, which is an added bonus for someone who had been self-distributing before.) I have no ill will for the drummer at all and wish him well.

What bothers me is that the marketplace as it is currently designed and managed forces people to make decisions based on economics first, and other considerations fall much farther down the ladder. This isn't one drummer's fault. It is the fault of a kind of capitalism that insists on endless growth for a company's survival.

The kids who will buy this pad won't care. They're kids who just want to chop on an awesome pad designed by an awesome drummer. Never mind how the pad came to be what it is today, or where and how it was made. If you try to educate the kids about this whole scene, they will resent you for harshing their vibe. That's just the way it is.

But the state of the drum marketplace today is just so predatory and wasteful, and that is why I've largely turned my attention to collecting and restoring vintage pads. Every old pad I bring back to life is a pad that won't go to the landfill, and instead can be handed to a young drummer to be enjoyed for many more years. I can live with that, and I can live with never stepping foot into another trade show exhibit hall for the rest of my life.

Chop on.

(NOTE: If you wanted the earlier version of this pad, don't worry! The original US maker of this pad has turned to making custom pads on demand, and if you can live without the signature you can probably get something very close to the original design of the pad above.)

Vintage Corner: Henry Adler adjustable practice pad, 1940s

I’ve been looking for one of these for a very long time. I had all but given up hope when suddenly this one appeared online for sale. I hesitated for a few days, then finally decided to go ahead and buy it.

It arrived in complete and functional condition.

As the photos make clear, the pad is in surprisingly good shape for being almost eighty years old.

However, the rubber was hardened and deeply cracked with age and exposure [to sunlight], and in its original condition wasn’t really playable.

After researching possible ways to renew the rubber, it became clear that the damage was too great, and I would either have to let it be or replace it.

I took a couple of days to consider my options.

Leaving the pad as is would mean that it would be relegated to a strictly historical artifact, a museum piece destined for a plexiglas glass display case and inertia.

Replacing the rubber surface would greatly reduce its historical value — and possibly its monetary value —  to collectors. But it would also make the pad playable again.

I had to be honest with myself and admit that I had always hoped to find one in playable condition. But before I took the leap, I sought opinions on fellow drum pad enthusiasts.

Most encouraged me to make the pad playable again, and after considering all the responses and my own feelings, that’s what I ended up doing.

Removing the original rubber was a slow, painstaking process. I took my time, not wanting to damage the wood underneath. I lightly sanded down the wood surface to remove the worst of the glue and allow the replacement rubber to lay flat.

Then, I selected a 1/8” thick piece of gum rubber and trimmed it to match the shape and size of the original, so that the overall aesthetic wouldn’t be too altered. I had considered using 1/4” thick rubber, but I decided on something that would give me greater articulation and also allow for a wider range of volumes without my having to hit the pad so hard. It IS almost eighty years old, after all.

I carefully glued and weighted down the rubber on the wood, let it dry and tested it. So far, so good.

Finally, because the wood was unfinished as far as I could tell, I decided to seal it with a clear coat of wood hardener, which would protect and strengthen the wood surface all around. It would also protect what remained of the decal, which shows Henry Adler’s name and the address of his New York shop and studio. (If you click on Henry’s name above, it will take you to an interview with him by Jim Dinella. I own pads from each of them now.)

(Later versions of this pad would carry a decal from George Way, who’d been licensed by Adler to produce and sell the pads. These later models also had a metal lever rather than a wooden knob, and were painted red or green like Way’s other pad offerings. When George Way was bought out by Camco, the Adler pad was no longer made. 

Here is a later version of the Adler design, sold by George Way in the 1950s. Note the sliding metal lever, and that the doors are hinged at the top rather than the bottom. (Photo still taken from Instagram video, courtesy of Michael Windish.)

Adler’s patent for this design was granted in 1950 and the pad was in production for less than ten years total. I believe mine is an early, pre-patent edition of this pad dating from the late 1940s.)

The original white “feet” were very small and one was missing. I removed them all and swapped in some  slightly larger white feet from a Ludwig pad. They tapped into the existing nail holes nicely.

The whole thing was allowed to dry outside under cover from the rain all day. When it stopped being smelly, I brought it indoors to become accustomed to the indoor temperature, and I was done.

I’m not sorry that I brought this pad back to life. I’m pleased with how it turned out and will enjoy it for a very long time.

Inflation has led to deflation: Used practice pads

I've researched and collected historic drum practice pads for a long time.
When I began my deep dive, almost no one else I knew was focused on historic drum pads, so that made it easy for me to find old pads at bargain prices. 
But by 2018 or 2019, things had begun to change, as more drum enthusiasts found vintage drums increasingly unaffordable and/or unattainable. Many of them turned their attention to other drum-related collectibles, including practice pads.

Before the Covid pandemic closed down the world, a brisk trade in vintage practice pads was on the rise. Alongside that, some of the big drum manufacturers were investing heavily in marching- specific designs and throwing a lot of marketing at younger drummers who were just coming into their own in the marching arts. 

During the pandemic, the practice pad market grew exponentially, and quickly. Those with an eye towards profit were punching above their weight with new models of marching-focused pads almost every season, while older drummers who had marched in the 1990s were now selling off their own vintage pads to turn a quick buck. 

If you've followed this story, you know that tan RealFeel pads made before D'Addario acquired HQ began fetching prices in the triple digits, Xymox was running the table for a little while and half a dozen other companies were trying to catch up. It was exciting for maybe a decade at most, and then the wheels gradually began to fall off. Xymox had horrible supply issues and atrocious customer service; Drumslinger learned that a one-man shop could never keep up with the likes of Vic Firth and Evans; and Prologix basically sold its soul. Whenever I pointed out the excesses of the practice pad industry, I would get shouted down by guys who worked for those comp[anies or who had helped design some of their most-hyped models.  

The shop bosses don't like canaries in their coal mines. They serve a useful function for the minders, but they also eat away at profits by slowing down production.

Now, in late 2025, the bottom has begun to fall out of the used practice pad market as so many enthusiasts who bought up piles of cool pads woke up and realized that (a) they weren't marching anymore, (b) they had bills to pay and (c) the pads they'd paid an arm and a leg for were now worth less than a quarter of their original value. 

Suddenly, the market was glutted with more pads than drummers and prices fell like 1920s wheat prices. (Millennials, look it up.)

Today, you can find an old tan RealFeel pad for under $100 and sometimes for less than $50 on Facebook Marketplace. HUN's M-12 pad (which was rebranded for RCP as their Active Snare pad) is now selling used for less than $25 used. Evans gray pads, which were never my favorite but which are ubiquitous, are selling for as little as $5.

The only pads which seem to have retained some value are those whose supply was controlled their makers: Evans red Barney Beats pads still fetch a high price due to artificial scarcity caused by Evans decision to make it a limited run. Beetle pads are made in small batches, one at a time, using sustainable practices that would never work for a large-scale manufacturer and those pads still demand competitive prices even in used condition.

While the practice pad market was beginning to capsize, I had turned my attention to making my own pads from scrap and repurposed materials. I was also recovering from two years of Long Covid, and didn't have the money or the energy to keep collecting in the same manner as before. My priorities began to shift. I focused on a handful of older, vintage pads that continued to have lower demand among the younger pad crowd, and for which there was a lot of documentation I could research. But my pad acquisitions really began to fall in 2024.

More recently, I decided to downsize my holdings in general after being approved for Disability. Knowing that I would not get a great return on my investment, especially for the marching-focused pads I still owned, I began to sell these, mostly at a discount. (In some cases I donated them to students so the pads could still see use. I am very happy that somewhere, there are schoolkids practicing on one of my pads.)

My collection at its peak numbered close to 200 pads of all kinds. That was in early 2023. Since making the conscious choice to pare down, I'm now at around fifty pads. I have plans to sell a few more of these and get down to the pads I enjoy chopping on the most, plus a couple of really rare, old pads that I find beautiful and historically interesting.

I had a lot of fun researching and find historic pads. But as I've begun to come out of serious illness and am adjusting to life in retirement, my priorities have shifted. By making more space in my material life I'm being open to whatever comes next. 

So if you're looking for a good drum practice pad, this is a very good time to shop online and at yard sales. I'll post some of my pads soon at the Drum Pad History Group on Facebook, and donate whatever I can't sell to a school. 

I haven't give up on drumming! I still chop a little every day and get a great deal of pleasure from doing so. I'm just getting more focused about what I chop on and why.

Happy drumming.

(Photo: George Stone practice pad, 1920. Back when a practice pad was just a horizontal surface that kept the neighbors off your back, and nothing more.)

 

The beginning of the end of big-name practice pads? I’m sort of ready for that.

I am winding down my practice pad collection, probably for good.

I’ve been pondering this step for a long time. I’ve made a few halfhearted tries in the last few years. But something has changed, in me and in the world around me, and I find myself in a new place that I am finally beginning to recognize.

The fact is that I’m preparing to enter a new phase of my life, one which likely does not involve teaching or drumming professionally and one which may not even involve much drumming in public for the foreseeable future.

Since the pandemic and its related events turned my life upside-down, I’ve been floundering. Getting far enough past Long Covid simply to function like a person again took over two years, and residual issues have lingered long enough to force me into medical retirement.

I’ve struggled to find my bearings since I began to improve; not knowing where or how to be useful, not able to promise a regular schedule or a regular level of energy while I’ve dealt with various medical issues, and feeling really lost.

Last week, a local All-Age drum corps invited me to join them in the pit playing mallet percussion. Playing in a drum corps pit would require me to manage not just playing mallet instruments, but also moving them and loading them on and off trucks at performances. Add in the fact that the corps is based in Milwaukie, and I’m transit-dependent, and it would be an unworkable situation that I could not guarantee a meaningful commitment to. There was a time I might have leapt at the chance, but that time has passed. I thanked them for the invitation and politely declined.

While I am getting stronger and more functional, there are definitely limits to my functionality and my energy level that signal it’s time for me to consider other possibilities. I can still play rudimentally, but marching and performing are just not happening at this time. And without the incentive of rehearsing I admit my interest in drumming has flagged a little.

Which brings me to my other line of thinking, especially about practice pads and my interest in them.

I have a feeling that the practice pad tidal wave is beginning to fall. Too many similar designs of higher-end pads have flooded the market since the beginning of the pandemic, and not enough people or communities have rebounded financially since Covid began to recede. Add to that the struggle of so many school groups just to stay afloat, let alone field a marching band. Even if Drumpf and Co. DO get shown the door, there’s too much damage done to repair anything in a lot of what’s left in my lifetime. It’s sad. I try not to dwell on it too much.

So I am beginning to sell off as many of my pads as I can. I hope to reduce the number down to perhaps a dozen or so pads that I use and enjoy regularly. I’ll offer them at decent prices, and whatever I can’t sell I might donate to a youth group.

I’d hang onto them, but I’ve encountered a lot of apathy in my attempts to spark interest in Rudimental drumming locally. Portland just leans way too far to the hard left on so many issues, for there to be much purchase beyond well-funded suburban schools.

At the end of the day, it’s just a practice pad. And maybe someday it will be just that, and no more, again. More and more, I think that would probably be a good thing.