So, it’s only been 2 days I have been on “lock down” here, and it seems selfish and absurd to be thinking about how much it sucks that I’m not out playing music and that shows are being cancelled. After all, there are far more pressing issues now: health concerns, plummeting stock markets, folks unable to work. Who wants to talk about music?

Well, I do. I’ll have plenty of time to worry about those other things. Life without music won’t be catastrophic. It just kind of sucks.

I don’t really like to stop playing. Even when I would take a week vacation or so and travel (during non-Corona times), as much as I enjoyed it, I always missed the cats and playing music. I don’t like leaving those two things behind.

So, yeah, it’s only been 2 days, but it seems like it will be a lot longer before things become normal.

I’ve been fortunate to keep a very busy musical schedule for the last decade-plus… but there’ve been slow times before this. I’m reminded of these.

There were a couple years in the mid-Aughts where a few things were working hard against me: middle-age, two babies, and dwindling musical opportunities. I was homebound then for different reasons. But it was a really strange time, musically-speaking…

The one thing I never stopped doing was writing. I guess that’s what separates a writer from someone who isn’t. Even with no bands to play in and no outlet to play the material, I was always coming up with songs and cutting little home demos to document them and flesh them out. And, of course, I was fooling around on the guitar and piano, singing songs to the kids, entertaining myself as I sat around the place. But no bands during that era. And no drums.

Sure, the drums were set up and ready to be played, but I didn’t play them that often. See above re: babies and familial responsibilities. And this is where it gets surreal, because something that had been SUCH a big part of my life had suddenly started feeling like a distant memory of some dream from a long time ago. Like, maybe it wasn’t real. If I was no longer playing in bands and I wasn’t really even playing the kit at home, it became impossible for me to not start questioning whether I was really still a drummer.  Doesn’t a drummer have to… you know… drum?  Nearly 20-years of my life and identity had been wrapped up in the idea of being a drummer, and it took only a couple years before I started questions whether I was being a poseur by suggesting I was one. Never because I didn’t want to be, but someone who professes to be a musician should play; my situation wasn’t allowing for that. I was having a musical existential crisis, a bit.

And then I had another surreal experience…

A family member got married and she had one of those hybrid DJ-with-percussion set ups. It was a guy spinning records and another accompanying with live traps and congas and stuff. More than a DJ, but less than a live band.

At one point, a cousin of mine ended up behind the bongos… I guess they encouraged that sort of thing where the “civilians” come up and make some noise. My cousin then coaxed me up and handed me some sticks…

And I shredded. I acted like a musician. People in my family were amazed, which is like…yeah, whatever… but the point is, I guess I sounded like I wasn’t fooling around. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure Tito Puente wasn’t worrying about his job or anything… But I came off like a musician. It reminded me that I really was a musician, a drummer… This really was a part of me still and a part that maybe can never go away. Things are sometimes slow. Opportunities aren’t always there. But if it’s really part of you, it won’t go away. It will be waiting.

I remind myself of that as I anticipate things slowing down for me.

Just two days, but an ominous outlook. I hope I’ll be back out there soon. And I know when it happens, I’ll be ready.