Beating a Drum

Sunday marked the occasion of my big “Join the Band” debut at Cozy’s in Sherman Oaks. “Join the Band” is an amazing program for kids and adults who want to play in a rock band without the bothersome burden of drugs, groupies or talent.

You join, they put you in a rock band, you practice together for eight weeks and then you perform in front of friends and family.

Now for me, this performance was a momentous event because up until now my family had looked upon my inclination to play the drums as a sort of congenital ailment. Not unlike an unsightly rash to which they had become begrudgingly accustomed and yet still preferred that I cover with clothing or a thick concealer.

As a drummer in my family I was privately shunned and publicly ridiculed. “Louise, stop drumming!” were the three most often hurled words in my childhood home. These words echoed through the house when an icicle fell to earth from a window ledge or when a car crashed into a nearby tree. My drumming was blamed for many things, including Watergate and the cancellation of The Hogan Family. I was forced to drum silently into a pillow, lest any neighbor discover that our home hid the shame of a little drummer girl.

Then I grew up and despite every effort by my family to squelch my natural tendency, I kept playing the drums. I suppose drumming is very much like your sexual orientation. It’s just there. And, I understand that drumming can often be louder than sex but when I’m playing the drums I feel like there’s no time, there’s just motion and music.

Something very special must have happened during the performance on Sunday because I was far from perfect but afterwards, my family was glowing with pride and exuding with compliments and praise. They seem to have come to appreciate the little drummer in me and I believe that now they fully grasp and trust that I no longer live with them so this is far more my neighbors’ problem than theirs.

Many great friends and family members were in supportive attendance: Amy, Joann, Jakey, Sidney and Mom, my cousins, Aaron, Emma, Stephen, Andria, my Aunt Marilyn and Uncle Dave and my comedy friends, Fini and Deb.

When I was a little kid, I would straddle a big green chair backwards, as if it were my drum set and I would bang on the back of that chair (quietly) and play along to The Cowsills and I would imagine that if I were in their family, they would let me play the drums.

My friend, Bob Cowsill was there at the show Sunday with his wife, Mary Jo and I don’t think I can explain what that means to me because I don’t think I know yet.

Do what you love.