When I was 5 years old I received my first drum, a tom tom that a neighbor gave me for Christmas. It came with a small wooden mallet that had a round blue rubber tip. A gray rubber skin, tied with a thin rope, held the drum skin in place. I played that drum head day and night until my mother, who was not blessed with patience to begin with, got rid of it. I was not a happy camper when I discovered that my only instrument had been unceremoniously finished. Struck with sadness and frustration, I pestered my parents to replace it, over and over again, but to no avail. There would be no way to win this battle, so I gave up fighting, but my love for percussion was etched in my brain forever. Over the years, my fascination with percussion grew exponentially. As I entered my teens I started working on my parents hoping to tear them down. My father insisted that he play a “nice” instrument like the piano or the violin. “All the drummers I knew were crazy,” was the psychology he used to try to derail my drumming love affair. I never bothered to ask him how many drummers he’s known who played drums, but I’ve met more than a few people who didn’t play full mallet and who got there without even playing a paradiddle.
Let’s fast forward a few years. I’m 19 years old, in college and after putting it off forever, I tell my parents I’ve found a good drum teacher, a job and I’m going to pay for my lessons and drums myself. This time the victory is mine.
Over the next 15 years I developed some skills, and despite my acute fear of failure and rejection, I began to play semi-professionally; bar mitzvahs, weddings, rock bands, jam sessions and a variety of independent concerts. The problem was that I lacked discipline and concentration. I wanted instant results. He longed for fame and all its trappings. He had zero understanding of the process. If I couldn’t “master” something the first time it was because I was incapable, I lacked talent and/or intelligence. I didn’t understand the time, energy, and effort it took to master any instrument. When I practiced, I neglected all the things that presented difficulties for me. There were specific elements of my instrument that required my full attention, but when faced with any challenge, I retreated to that safe and ultimately unrewarding place called limbo. Eventually, rejection got the better of me and I withdrew from the hand and cashed.
Over the years the regrets were mounting and I knew in my heart that I was living an unfulfilled life. Now he was traveling down a road that was full of compromises with no room for dreams. I opted for jobs that were “a means and an end.” But there was no end. The journey was always the same. I paid my fare and ended up in the same place with the same predictable stops along the way. The clock was ticking. It was time for a life change. I was headed for no man’s land if I failed to confront my shortcomings and limitations and learn the importance of self-awareness when it came to all relationships in my life. A new and exciting journey was ahead of me. If I wanted my life to change. If I wanted to find meaning in the things I did, I had to change myself. No one could do it for me. And that’s exactly what I did. Like everything in life, it wasn’t always a day at the beach, but there were important lessons to be learned, and I was learning them. Every aspect of my life was improving. In college I became part of an improv group. I was writing and acting and living and loving every minute. I eventually took part in an underground television production called “Video Madness.” After encouragement from my wife and fellow actors, I went on to formally train with the amazing Tim Phillips. At that moment I firmly understood what it meant to focus and persevere. To achieve any success, I would have to work hard and understand that success would not be handed to me on a silver platter. Sam Goldwin said, “The more I work, the luckier I get.” I was going to have to work hard to make some luck of my own. Now when I took a job, I did it with a sense of purpose. There are no full time jobs for me. Every job I took was in support of my dreams. I was not going to back down or give up. She was not going to succumb to an unfulfilled life. I had chosen my path and I was going to stick with it. And I have.
Today I am fully involved in my acting study which I began in 1988. Two years ago I began studying drums again with the remarkable Dave Meade. I got back to doing the things I love and need to do to maintain balance in my life. I know and understand that life will always present challenges, but instead of shying away from them, I embrace them as opportunities for growth and change. I wouldn’t have it any other way.