Yesterday’s post made me think of something funny…

I wrote that I used to joke about starting to play the drums at 37;  I was a little self-conscious about it because every musician I met was in their 20s or early 30s and they had all been playing for years.  Mark, the owner of the music store where I bought my drums and took lessons is a ball-buster (which I love in people) and we used to joke a lot about my being old and about everything else.  In fact, I became good friends with both Mark and his wife, Christine, and I miss seeing them regularly since I moved out of Jersey City.

One day my drum teacher, Kevin, told me that my homework was to find someone to jam with, versus just playing along with music on my headphones as I had been doing.  He felt that was the next step in my developing as a drummer.  I was beside myself.  How would I find someone to jam with?  I didn’t even use the word “jam” in a sentence unless I was making a peanut butter sandwich, and anyway I would say “jelly”!   The only musicians that I knew were professionals and I was too much of a novice to jam with them.  Would I have to troll the streets for young musicians, schedule a jam session with them and then send them an Outlook meeting request?  That was my standard operating procedure at the time!  I was completely thrown for a loop.

Thinking he would be able to provide some guidance, I shared my concerns with Mark.  A week later when I came in for my lesson, Mark said to me, “Guess what?  I found someone for you to jam with.  She’s a bass player and she is at about the same level as you are so you two should be able to play and progress together.”

I was so happy.  “Thanks Mark!  That’s awesome!”

“Sure,” he replied, “just let me get permission from her dad because she’s fourteen.”  And then he laughed.

Ugh. 

The moral of the story is….you have to be able to laugh at yourself.  I still snicker when I think of that moment.

Have a good one!

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