Paradigm Shift

My Dad used to play drums in his Boy Scout troupe.  He played the bass drum, beating along to the marches, growing up hard in Ramallah, Jordan.  He didn't really tell me that when I chose to play drums.  He didn't really tell me much about his childhood.  I had to glean it from comments here and there and stories from his family, who aren't the kind to wax nostalgic.

He passed away on February 25th, about two weeks from his 71st birthday.  He had a massive stroke that would have finished most men instantly.  But his heart kept beating for two more days, until my brother was able to come out from Ohio and see him.  Until everyone who needed to see him was able to come and say goodbye.  Then, on a beautiful Monday afternoon, while the sun was shining in the blue, and with my mom, my brother, myself and some close family and friends around his bed, his heart made one last, triumphant, desperate rhythm, rising to a crescendo until it's final beat, sending him off to be with his God.

I hope when I see him again, among other things, I will be able to finally play drums with him, side by side, in glory.

I've been away from this blog for a long time.  What started as a celebration of my son has been neglected, so I think it fitting to rekindle it in celebration of my father.  Time is fleeting, and those of us who keep time know this best of all.

Here is the count off.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four...

Am I Funny?

My boy is growing up faster than I can keep up.  His language seems to be advancing like his cells split in the womb: Exponentially.  One word leads to another leads to a concept leads to insight.  I am amazed and scared.

It's these milestones that seem to rush upon us after hard work on his part - to communicate, to listen, to control his new-found powers.  Like a band trying to write songs together and play together tightly, such is this little boy struggling to grow up and fit into the world of his limited understanding.

It has become very important to him that he be "funny" these days.  After doing something "right" or novel, he asks "Am I funny?" or "Is that funny?"  in his tiny, clear voice.  We are struggling not to just say "yes, very", and rather answer appropriately depending on the situation.  For example, when he comes down the stairs and notes to us that he's grabbed the rail, then asks "I'm funny?" - we say, "No, baby, not funny, but certainly smart and prudent."  But we laugh , too.

We've decided that "funny" means "good" or "approved" to him, and we're trying to not only teach him the actual meaning of "funny" (which he really IS, by the way) but also to learn other questions to ask.

When I first played in a band, I was told that if I asked if I'd played a song well, I already knew the answer...I see that as true, but I also see the value in affirming to my loved ones that yes, they actually ARE funny...er, loved.

Beginnings

I didn't always want to be a drummer.  In fact, for a while I hated the idea.  Drummers just didn't catch my eye as a little kid.  They were always sitting in the back.  They never got up front.  Who knew their names?  And more importantly, who of MY FRIENDS knew their names?  But I think I was destined to be one, even since I was a little tyke.  More after the jump...

Sorry 'bout Your Belated Valentine (or, "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Rookie Card")

About four years ago, I was in a great band called Rookie Card.  It was, to date, my most prolific endeavor, and the one that has lead to more opportunities in the San Diego musical community than any other.  I am super thankful for my time as a "Rookie", and am very proud of the work we did to establish ourselves in the San Diego scene.  Adam, the singer and songwriter of the group, was and is responsible for our success, from writing great songs that were fun to play, to getting us shows I can't believe we got to play, to securing the funds and means to get three CD's recorded, two of which were nominated for SDMA's.  There is so much to write about my time in Rookie Card, that I thought I'd save it for a later post.  But, as most musicians and ALL parents know, things don't always go as planned...

On Beat

I have been drumming for nearly 24 years. It seems hard to believe when I tell it, but I realized this was the case when I got the announcement for my High School 2oth reunion, which is itself kinda daunting, and remembered that I started playing my freshman year.

On the other hand, I have been a father for just over a year and a half.