Define pt. 2

Practice started to pay off.

I quit band after eighth grade. I was making the transition into high school, and that transition did not include band. Too geeky. My friends weren't doing it. John had moved to Los Angeles.

Performance recitals did not hold a future for me. I had discovered something else: jazz band. Still a band, yes, but it was different. It was popular music. It was a chance to shine on the drum set. It was freedom.

We had a new band director - he liked me, and I liked him. He let me do whatever I wanted on the drums so long as it kept the right tempo. So jazz songs became rocks songs. Salsa songs became rock songs. And funk songs became funkier. Couldn't do much past a 4/4 beat but I sure as heck could do that well.

The drums became the centerpiece of the band.

Attention and compliments followed, even as John moved back and took over on some songs. He played the jazzier stuff, and I was happy to let him have those tunes. I liked the heavy, thumping, fast-paced stuff. More of an exclamation point. Folks like exclamation points. I trusted that high school girls especially did.

I was becoming 'the drummer.'

I was practicing every day at home. Things I couldn't do before were becoming easier. With the jazz band I was learning how to follow other musicians and how to let other musicians follow me. College was becoming less of a reality because I knew I would have a major-label deal with a popular band by then. I was a freshman in high school.

About the time I got my driver's license a new musical arena entered my world. The worship band at my church was well-known for its rocking contemporary style, I had known that my whole life. Soon as I got my first set, folks at church started talking about how I was their drummer of the future. Wasn't until they absolutely needed a drummer on the team that I was brave enough to give it a go.

I was timid at first. Playing in front of 100, 200 people Sunday mornings is scary, especially when you're thinking the wrath of God will smite you if you mess up. Keep it simple, keep it simple, I reminded myself. Eventually I eased into it. It became natural. The nervousness I originally experienced before services went away. Best part of all, I actually started to enjoy church for the first time.

After awhile I was a worship team mainstay. Folks I had known my whole life complimented me time after time. Folks I had never seen in my life approached me to compliment me. I liked the attention. I thought I was a star.

Life was the drums.

Life is the drums.

I stuck with jazz band until senior year, when it dissipated after several members graduated. I went strong with the worship team for about five years, playing almost every Sunday. I was the only option at church and I was happy to oblige. Nowadays I still sit in on some Sundays, but there are other drummers and I take my turn.

Now in college I have two bands. We've played some shows, not a lot but enough to get some attention. No major-label deal yet though.

A funny thing started to happen about the time I came to college, though. More than once people recognized me around town as 'the drummer from Central.' People at church wanted to talk to me about the drums but not about my life. I was drumming for various projects, but only when they needed me. I was just a 'drummer.'

Compliments and praise can only get you so far.

The drums can only get you so far.

I'm 21 now. I've played the drums since I was 12. Almost half of my time on God's good earth has been spent pouring myself into the drums.

My main band, though talented and worthy of fans, will probably not get a record deal or national tour. We'll play around Athens for awhile but it will go away eventually. I'm staring at graduation, and too often I feel like I don't have enough experience in journalism to land a good job.

I don't think I'm good at anything else.

I noticed a couple of days ago that my wrists hurt sometimes when they shouldn't. Same with my lower back. And my girlfriend does not like it that I say 'Huh?' so much. First three years I played I didn't wear ear plugs.

So what have the drums made of my life? After nine years I'm left with an aching back and the near-certainty that I will be deaf someday. And people know me just as 'the drummer.' They don't even know my name.

Drumming became my identity.

(to be continued)