That Which We Love

I received an e-mail yesterday from a friend in So Cal, a guitarist I traveled with almost 30 years ago. The subject line read, 'So you married a girl named Beth, eh?'. The content of the message was a file containing the Kiss song 'Beth' that I sang at a show in Del Ran, New Jersey in 1981. Whether or not I had any business singing could be the subject for another's blog. The truth of the matter is, I was doing what I love, playing music.



It all began after hearing "Dizzy" by Tommy Roe. Between chorus and verse there was a 2-bar drum solo that owned me. Then there was "American Pie" by Don McLean. Whoever it was playing those drums was larger than life. I wanted to be that guy. So, I took two butter knives out of Mom's kitchen and began to beat on chairs, magazines; anything that would bounce a "stick".


The lady on the receiving end of my phone calls bartering with her over the drum set in the paper must have been worn down (she later told my Dad she was) because I secured my first kit for $75. I was now legit and at the age of 9 began taking drum lessons at Fullerton Music. For some reason I remember learning jazz and bossa nova techniques, but what I really wanted was to play rock and roll.


Most of my junior high and high school experience came through jamming with my brother (who is still very much at it on guitar) in the garage and through a few bands. At the time, the pinnacle of gigdom was playing on the senior quad during spirit week. I think we lasted 5 minutes until the assistant principal unplugged our shot at glory. It was a brief but great experience!


During that time in life, though, interests and passions are regularly compared to others; what they do, how they appear,what they think of us and what is deemed cool by the masses. The "greener grass" syndrome often prevails. And from that day on the senior quad as the drummer for Arabesque, I gained a nickname from one classmate, drummer boy. He took it as his responsibility to frequently suggest that I was only in the band because of my brother or that I was holding the rest of the band back. He drove me nuts!


After high school, actually the day of my graduation, I caught a plane to Columbus, Ohio to begin a 3-year global jaunt playing music nearly every day which included USO tours overseas, occassional gigs in Vegas and Tahoe and our groups' bread and butter, school assembly shows. I realized that my time spent behind the kit was paying off.


At the conclusion of the tour that summer, I was running to catch my connection in O'Hare airport for a short break at home. In a great mass of people, I began to hear my name called. I waited for its source and up came my friend from high school, drummer boy! I asked what he was doing. He said he was coming back from basic training. He asked me. I told him I was headed home after a tour to Canada with my band. We spoke for a moment then went our separate ways.


That was a long, long time ago, but it taught me to pursue that which I love. Playing music continues to be one of those things at the top of my list. In fact, I have to go load my drums for a wedding reception tonight with the band. . .