His hair may be white, and he is coy about his age, but the sparkle in his dark brown eyes confirms that there is still plenty of life in the hands of drummer Alan Lottimore, who first began playing as a small boy.

The story of his long career begins at approximately age six when his much older brother, Frederick, who was also a drummer, passed away.

"He left a note saying: `Mother, give these drums to Alan','' Mr. Lottimore relates. "I didn't know anything about drumming but I had watched him, so I started with the gombey rhythms and got them going very well.'' In fact, the lad progressed so well that around age eight he was asked to join the Tucker brothers -- Archie, Keith and Kimball -- in a little gombey group.

"They did the dancing, and my brother Roland and I played the drums,'' Mr.

Lottimore relates. "We went around neighbourhoods for a couple of years and did fairly well, but then we drifted apart.'' But not for long. The little drummer boy's talent was shaping up so well that he was soon asked to play for special Boxing Day and other dances.

"There was Edward Simons on alto sax, Leonard Simons on guitar, and Albert J.

Fox on piano, and we played at Samaritan's Hall on Cobbs Hill for a matinee dance, one Boxing Day dance and two dances at Joell's Patio. I got about seven shillings and sixpence for the lot -- two shillings and sixpence for the afternoon, and five shillings for the evening,'' he chuckles.

More work at parties and dances followed, and with the proceeds the lad was finally able to purchase a bicycle, which he fitted up with carriers back and front to hold some of the drums, while the big bass drum he slung on his shoulder.

Residing on Spring Hill in Warwick, Mr. Lottimore recalls that the farthest he travelled in this way was to a private home near Clay House Inn.

Still a school child, of course, he also supplemented his income by delivering papers around Warwick East. He also had to complete chores at home before setting off for his classroom at the old Paget Glebe School.

"I had to make 6 a.m. at Darrell's Wharf to pick up the papers from the ferry, otherwise they would be sent back to Hamilton,'' Mr. Lottimore recalls.

"I also had rabbits, ducks, chickens and dogs to feed before I went to school.'' Although an apt student, his family could not afford to send him to high school, so he repeated years five and six at Paget Glebe before going out into the working world.

Surprisingly, perhaps, for someone who had exhibited musical talent at an early age, and who had also spent many hours listening to recordings of music from which he picked up drumming rhythms in particular, Alan Lottimore put music aside in his late teens and became a labourer.

"My first job was with Bill Hooper, the diver,'' he relates. "We worked at Darrell's Island constructing the tower. It was wartime, and the first time the Army called me, Mr. Hooper got me off, but the second year he said, `Lottimore, I can't do anything more for you, you'll have to go', so I served in the Bermuda Militia Artillery and the Bermuda Militia Infantry at St.

David's.'' With peacetime came a return to the world of music, and the formation of the Aldano Quartet, with Norman Astwood on guitar, Earl Darrell on piano, John (Big) Smith on bass and Mr. Lottimore on drums. Daily rehearsals led to regular gigs at dances and other events for several years.

Then, in the late 1940s and early 1950s he joined the Winslow Fox Quintet, and later the Dublinaires. "I did a lot of singing with the Quintet,'' Mr.

Lottimore reveals. "I sang ballads or easy jazz. I used to listen to a lot of recordings and copy the words. It didn't come too hard to me because it was something I liked.'' Mr. Lottimore also notes that "at one time there were three drummers in the Quintet, including Quinton Harvey, plus "Tootsie'' Bean on vibraphone, Frankie Rubain on guitar, and Philip Dublin on bass, who was also the leader.

That left me doing vocals and playing the maracas and cow bell''.

The Quintet "put in a lot of years'' and played at such locations at The St.

George Hotel, Deepdene Manor, and the US Bases.

"We had a helluva time, I tell you,'' Mr. Lottimore smiles. "We were kept very busy. In fact, it was a bit of a job keeping up with the different nights.'' Nonetheless, the lure of life beyond "the Pond'' proved a strong one for the young Bermudian, so he set off for the United States, where he found work as a chauffeur and driver for the wealthy Macy family of department store fame. If his eyes were opened by the opulence and wealth he saw daily, they certainly weren't dazzled by it, for life behind the scenes wasn't always pretty.

What did attract Mr. Lottimore, however, was a nearby club which had jam sessions on Thursdays and Sundays.

"I would go down and cut it up a bit,'' the drummer says with a knowing smile.

No doubt the experience was invaluable, for a month after he returned home at the end of 1974 the drummer's skills were snapped up by Mike Adams, leader of the house band at the Belmont Manor Hotel.

In all, Alan Lottimore would give 30 plus years to the Belmont Hotel -- years which included a stint with pianist Geoff Grotton, who succeeded Adams as leader of the Belmont band, in which Chalky Virgil played bass.

"It was a sad loss,'' the drummer says, recalling the hotel's closure. "At one time it had local acts two to three nights a week. We gave up our holiday to work an extra month, then suddenly they came in and said, `We're not having any more house bands so we'll have to let you go' -- just like that.'' After that, Mr. Lottimore "just got involved playing in different groups'', including the Somers Isles Jazz Band for approximately five years.

"I really enjoyed that. It gave you a chance to open up,'' says the man who was more used to playing ballads and easy jazz for dancing. "But while I was playing with them, I also took whatever other jobs came up just to keep going.

I did some work with Gandhi Burgess, and various groups.'' In fact, as he reminisces, names of well-known local entertainers with whom he has worked tell you that here was a man who travelled with the best of them -- names like pianist Dennis Fox and bassist Ralph Ebbin with whom he played at Cambridge Beaches. Comparing that to today's local entertainment scene, the drummer's face clouds.

"I never thought we would go down this far,'' he says. "The bottom's gone out of the business. Today, it is a struggle. There's work out there for the smaller groups and the smaller places, but most of the large places have gone.

A long time ago the hotels would have dances and shows, and every night there was somewhere to go. The music scene has really turned upside down. It is very sad to see.'' Pinpointing the decline in local entertainment to the time when hotels switched from American Plan to European Plan, the drummer feels strongly that the present situation from a visitor's point of view is very wrong.

"There should be more entertainment, not less,'' he stresses. "We can't give the people what they want unless we find out what they like and go from there.

If you find something they like, you expand on it and keep going.'' Asked what advice he would give to local youngsters aspiring to a career in music, he considers his response carefully.

"Unless they get a steady job, or one that gives them four to five nights a week, it would be difficult to enroll in that profession,'' he concludes.

After he retired from his day job with a liquor store in 1991 things went quiet for the soft-spoken drummer and, like many others, he felt the absence of a regular pay cheque.

Then along came an offer from Bermuda's much-loved entertainer, Gene Steede, to join him and the legendary bassist Stan Gilbert playing in the Arrivals Hall at the airport. It was an opportunity he couldn't refuse, and the gig clearly tickles him.

"It sure feels good when you have somewhere to go and a steady pay cheque,'' Mr. Lottimore beams.

The concept of retirement is quickly dismissed.

"It's too late to retire,'' he says. "You've just got to keep struggling.

Take it as it is and use it up.'' In his spare time, Mr. Lottimore likes to listen to easygoing music and jazz, and also read, but having spent his life on the entertainment circuit he still prefers being where the action is.

"I like to visit places like clubs. Sit down and have a little `Koolaid' -- mixed with something else, of course -- and talk to people.'' Looking back over his long, colourful career in entertainment, Mr. Lottimore sums it up with the quiet humour for which he is also known.

"It's been a very good one, but it could have been better,'' he quips. " `Better' never hurt anybody. Getting the best of things is always good.''