I’ve been interested in music my entire life and have pursued the playing of it for about as long. I took years of piano and guitar lessons both in college and privately. I used to play around on the old 1910 upright piano I used to have or strum around on one of my 4 guitars, which I still have. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to master playing both the aforementioned instruments, I never got to the level of mastery I desired. One day, after years of lessons on and off, the ultimate discouragement came when one of my friends, who was of “southern linage” picked up one of my guitars and played it like a master. He had never had any lessons and couldn’t even read music! He said that he just picked up playing on his own. I used to play my guitar and occasional piano in Church, and in spite of the compliments I received, I never felt that I had the gift to perform up to my standards. Over the years, I gradually drifted away from playing and sought other pursuits that appear to be more in the realm of my talents and gifts, one of which was and is writing. However, some of you readers of my stories may wonder if that is truly one of my gifts…

 

During my teenage years, my biggest desire was to play the drums in a rock band. Being perpetually in a manic state then (and now), I figured I could really play the drums fast and good just like my idols Gene Krupa and Sandy Nelson. I used to look at the drum sets in the Sears catalog and dream of buying a set. They were expensive and I never had anywhere near enough money to purchase a set. It never occurred to me then to ask for a set of drums for Christmas. However, I doubt my mother would have gotten them for me anyway since they were too expensive even for her to purchase. I was prevented from getting a part time job after school to earn the money for them since I was needed on the farm to do work. One time I “borrowed” a set of drumsticks I saw laying around in the school music room. I used those sticks for a long time at home beating just about any horizontal surface to try to sate my overpowering drum appetite. One of the “drums” I used was the bottom of a coffee can, which resulted in a strange “tinny” sound. Later on when they started to use the plastic covers to keep the coffee fresh, I found this sound more drum like. One Christmas when I was 12, I did get a set of drums! It was bongo drums. I figured this was better than nothing, at least I did own a set of drums at last!

 

For quite awhile, I pounded on those bongo drums like a beatnik (the goatee would come much later.) I had a goatee for a while in the late 1980’s long before they became fashionable. Once again, I was ahead of my time. I found some Cha Cha Cha LP (Long play) albums, and beat the bongos in time with all the music. At least for a short time, this took my mind off wanting a set of “big” drums. When I was a little older, I went to Johnny Waite’s place one time and he had a complete set of big drums set up in his living room! His dad, Roger, used to play them in a local band years before. He must have found them in their attic and set them up. He let me sit at them and pound away! I played in time with such songs as Love Potion Number 9 and many Beach Boy numbers or whatever records Johnny had on hand. I was in drummer heaven! I got pretty good at playing Wipe Out on the big kettle type drum too. I made several visits to his place in those days. This lasted until he took the drum set to school to play it on the stage during the lunchtime dances we used to have. I sure wished that I could have been up there playing those drums instead of John! Here again, it never occurred to me to ask him if I could have a short gig. He probably would have let me. Alas, another opportunity wasted because I failed to pursue it! Oh woe is me! Between “gigs” at his place, when he finally brought the drums home, I would play my old bongos to help sedate my insatiable desire to play drums. During the first half (and second half) of my life, EVERYTHING I did was with a zeal that was overpowering bordering on the obsessive. Hmmmm, to be honest, I guess I did “cross the border” more often than not. When we had school dances or I went to the Note (a teenage dance place at Ruggles Beach), and they had the occasional live band, I was always mesmerized with the drummer and watched him all evening. I always thought that I could have been on stage in a band too if I had figured out a way to buy a drum set of my own.

 

The desire to play the drums has never left me. I figured that with my manic nature that I could really play a magnificent drum solo that is always popular with the audience. In fact, whenever I heard a drum solo, which wasn’t often enough with any band, I knew I could have done a whole let better and could really give the listeners what they really wanted, i.e.  a long fast drum solo.

 

Some years later when I was in Graduate School, I was working as an assistant night auditor and security at a motel in Grand Rapids from 11:00 PM to 7:00 AM. The name of the place was The Presidents Motor Inn and was rather large. They used to have live bands play in the down stairs lounge once and awhile. One night, when I checked the place on my rounds, I found that no one was in there since it was a Sunday night. I spied a drum set sitting up on the stage. Wellllllllll, this was my big chance to once again beat on some drums! Every round, which was VERY FREQUENT that night, I would spend several minutes playing the drums on a stage! I figured if anyone happened to come into the dimly lit room, they would assume that I was a band member who was practicing. WOW! I sure had fun that night!

 

Since I just recently happened to stumble on my present set of bongos, which were under a lot of “junk” in my storage room, I started to beat on them again, which of course gave me the idea for this story. They don’t sound very good since over the years the skins have loosened too much. These aren’t my original bongos I received for Christmas when I was 12. Those are long gone unfortunately. I got this present set in Spain when I was in the Navy several years ago. I have gone “full circle” reverting to bongos. This is much more acceptable since I can’t use empty coffee cans as I have given up drinking coffee quite sometime ago. However, I still practice my life long habit of drumming my fingers and stamping my foot whenever I hear any music. As a matter of fact, I “drum” them at times even when I’m not hearing music.

 

Now, at this point, some of you may be wondering since I have had this life long yearning to play drums, why I have never bought a set during my adult life when I could have afforded one? Hey, it “beats” me! (Heh Heh, pun intended).  I’m sure that I could do that even now, but in my older more mature(?) stage of life, I doubt I ever will. One of the reasons is that it would scare the cats and drive my wife crazy. The last thing she needs (or the cats) is anything else I do to drive them crazy. Oh, yes, I’m very capable of inadvertently driving wives and cats crazy.  Check out the story “Frazzled Feline”.