I became a Dad, Writer and Drummer thanks to my mom
A tribute on her birthday. Set Saccharine Guns to “stun.”
As my two-bit marketing alias goes, I’m a dad, writer, and drummer. It’s a hodgepodge of skills, and on my mom’s birthday, I wanted to tell three quick stories about she inspired each of them.
(Of course, my dad had a big part too, but it’s not his birthday so he can wait his turn)
Dad
It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact ways my mom influenced me as a parent because it was all learning by immersion. You hope to pick, consciously or not, the best aspects of your childhood and replicate them when it’s your turn.
However, two things come to mind: First, one morning when Oliva was an infant, I was frazzled trying to feed and her and then run off to work. I was pretty tired and probably looked it. My mom (I was living at home at the time), pulled me aside and said, “This is how it is. You will care for your child even when your eyes feel like they are going to bleed and fall out.”
It’s a simple, if graphic, mantra. When I feel like I’m too tired to do something with or for the kids, I remember that and rally myself to keep going.
I’m not sure of the other things I do, exactly. All I know is that when I get on the kid’s cases about something, because I have everything they are up to cataloged in my mind and I feel it is important to run through it all with them to make sure things are running smoothly, Olivia sighs and goes, “Geez, Dad! You sound like Nonni.”
Writer
Apart from the mechanics of putting words to paper, many times writing a good article starts with asking good questions. Sometimes, though, you have to come up with those questions on the fly, especially if the conversation takes an unlikely turn.
When I was in 11th grade, Mom drove me to interview the owner of a local farm for a school journalism project. I went to school with his grandson, who gave me the impression that his family, until recently, owned the land where developers were now building McMansions.
With my first question, I learned his grandson was a braggart, and they’d never owned that land. I was ready to leave when my mom started talking.
“Oh, you know, that’s interesting. We moved here a few years ago and always wondered who owned what land around here. It’s all changed so much. Now, where was your farm originally?”
She spoke first just to avoid that lull, and then to poke and prod until she found an in. Finally, the farmer opened up and started talking about the history of the area and how his business has changed over the decades.
I ended up with a much different story than I expected. But, without Mom, I wouldn’t have had any story at all. And, even now, when there’s a chance an interview will go south, I use those same conversational techniques.
Drummer
My dad was a drummer, which obviously had a significant influence on my instrument of choice. But my Mom made a few moves that meant a lot, too.
The biggest one was insisting that I join the high school marching band. By then I’d been playing kit for almost three years and was in the junior high concert band. But the few friends I had there weren’t pursuing it in high school. So, I told my mom I didn’t want to join.
“No,” she said. “You play drums, and you’ll play them there, too.”
Alright, so I’ll humor her and stick it out through 10th grade. Then I can quit because I hate it.
Except, I didn’t. I went all three years, and it became a big part of my life. Even dealing with older, very competitive drummers, had a huge silver lining: I learned how to overcome obstacles and deal with, let’s say, difficult co-workers.
I worked hard to improve, at first out of spite and then out of love for the craft. By my senior year, I could hang with the best of them. And, a bunch of us are still in touch today.
The skills I honed over those years inform what I do today. And, more importantly than drumming, it created a paradigm for me where I understood I could overcome what seemed like impossible goals.
I never thought, at the beginning of 10th grade, that I’d be on par with those guys. Getting over a hump like that helped me get over many others later.
It’s something I tell my drum students about today. And, I also tell them how my mom made me do it in the first place.
Honorable Mention
This one doesn’t fit neatly into any of the above categories, but: When I was having trouble with a bully in fourth grade, he and I got into a fight right after school, in front of all the parents.
I was about to retaliate when I felt my mom’s hand on my shoulder. I thought she was going to break it up. Instead, she took my book bag and said, “Get him.” Then, she stopped the other parents, including the other kid’s mom, from breaking it up as I gained the upper hand, telling them, “Nope, this is a long time coming.”
If that’s not having your back, I don’t know what is.
