Drummers are so cool. Aren’t they?
They’ve always been my favorite. (Not so) quietly sitting at the back, face almost always covered by the microphone stand or the cymbals (or their hair). Just doing their job. And looking absolutely badass while doing so.
Maybe I love them the most because I’ve always been a frustrated drummer. I went for lessons in high school, mainly because my dad used me as an excuse to fulfill one of his bucket list dreams. “I think you should learn how to play the drums,” he told me. What that really meant was, “I want to learn the drums. Can you come take classes with me?”
And so we did. Every Sunday. We started small. Basic beats. Then later, it started getting complicated and I realized my hand-eye coordination was horrible. What do you mean I’m supposed to open and close this hi-hat then hit it all in one beat?! Can’t you see I’m busy counting until it’s time to step on the bass again?!
After a while, my dad gave up. So did I. I guess we couldn’t play anything past the basic beats. Well, until I was forced to play more—one of my best friends was the main drummer for our year at our high school intramurals, and she had signed me up as her sub. Someone had to be playing for the crowd to cheer, and she couldn’t play all day. It took her a day to teach me all the cheers, but took me two weekends to finally master them.
Well, actually, I only really mastered them after playing them straight all day. Sometimes I’d skip a beat or two, but thankfully, everyone was too busy watching the volleyball games or making faces at the (loser!) freshmen across the court to notice. Every time I’d make a mistake, I’d start playing faster, then… cymbals!
Or maybe I love drummers the most because they look so unassuming. Unlike lead singers who try to charm the crowd, drummers look like they don’t care whether you like them or not. They pretty much look cool without even trying.
I remember going through an oooh he plays the guitar and sings lead he’s so dreamy phase in college. Guitars! Stage presence! That voice! Ahhh, those heartbreakers. They’re not singing for you, groupie girl. They’re singing for the Battle of the Bands judges behind you.
“Miguel (name has been changed, he could be anywhere!) likes you, you know,” a friend told me one day as we were walking to class. Ehhh. He was nice, but not really my type. And besides, I was too hung up on Chuck (name has not been changed, I hope he’s not on Hi) the amazing lead singer.
“No? Not your type? Oh well. Hey, you know, I heard from Paolo, who went to high school with him, that he used to play the drums.”
(Don’t you love how girls gossip?)
Whoa. Wait. Tell me more. A secret drummer? He gets an instant 1000 pogi points (handsome points, in Filipino slang) from me!
Well, not enough points for me to fangirl over him instead then, but still. ;)
Drummers are the coolest, I think, as I watch Zac Hanson play. (Ha—yes, I was at a Hanson concert. Six albums and 17 years later, they’re still my guiltiest guilty pleasure. Maybe I never really grew up.) And to think, he wasn’t even playing something crazy complicated. It just looked cool. Everyone in the audience is at least 25 and older, but everyone’s 13 today and swooning over Taylor Hanson.
They start playing the first few chords of my favorite Hanson song (yes, yes, with a grammatically incorrect title and cheesy camera stares—but isn’t it so wonderfully 2003?). Taylor dedicates it to the “crazy travelers” in the audience. Ooookay, Taylor, you get a few points from me too.
I used to get caught up in the lead singer love, but not anymore. Drummers, drummers! Zac shakes his head to get the hair out of his face and smiles. While fangirling over someone my age who has two (!) kids sounds a little weird, I do it anyway. A loud wooohooo! for Zac Hanson and all drummers out there from this groupie girl. You’ll always be my favorite. ;)
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."