Me and My Drum

December 25, 2009

Yesterday I was in a store doing some last-minute holiday shopping when The Little Drummer Boy started playing. It’s magical how music can shift your mood and reconnect you to people, places, situations and feelings you thought you had forgotten.

When I was around six years old, my sister and I used to perform The Little Drummer Boy together. Connie is seven years older than me and played piano. I sang and operated the sustain pedal. Since The Little Drummer Boy was the only song we performed, December was our busiest month. Connie had a larger musical repertoire, but most of her songs didn’t require vocals… or so I was told. Had I only known “Alley Cat” had lyrics, we could have doubled our set list.

Our primary audience consisted of my mom, dad, brother and dog—in various combinations. (Note: Were it not for my love of animals, Punky, the meanest dog I’ve ever known… may he rest in peace… would not be included in this story, nor considered an audience member.) Since the piano was adjacent to the kitchen, my mom heard us perform the most. Read more

Do Opposites Really Attract?

December 19, 2009

One day while out for a long walk, I stopped in at a little coffee shop and took a seat at the bar. The barista was steaming a cup of milk, singing and dancing to the background music. For a barista, she had an exceptionally beautiful voice (not that I profess to have any expertise in singing baristas), but experiencing her preparation of a coffee drink was more like attending a stage performance.

“One moment… I’ll be right with you,” she said as she artfully spooned the froth into a large cup of espresso without missing a beat.

After finishing her masterpiece, she glided over and placed it in front of this rigid looking guy sitting across from me. He studied the cup closely, then bent down and took in the aroma. When he came up for air his fogged glasses slid partway down his nose. He looked to be in his early 50s, but after removing his glasses to wipe off the condensation, I wasn’t sure. Add to this his froth mustache, and he could have been a kid again.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked him.

“Excellent… another ‘10’ Larissa,” he answered, looking pleased with her work.

Larissa turned to me. “Okay, then… what can I make for you?” Larissa’s smile matched her voice.

“I guess I’ll have what he’s having,” I responded.

“Great choice, you won’t regret it,” the guy said wiping off his mustache. I smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Larissa, now will you please change it?” Before she could respond, he added, “I bet this gentleman would like it changed, too.” I hadn’t a clue of what “it” was, but considering I was the only other patron, I assumed the gentleman he was referring to was me.

“Wouldn’t you rather listen to Mozart?” he asked me pointing up to a speaker, shaking his head and rolling his eyes disapprovingly.

“Oh, Robert… you and Wolfgang,” Larissa said in a kidding voice, then added, “Robert is a music expert… he knows everything and has a doctorate degree in music.”

“Whatever you two decide to listen to is fine by me… I plan to shove off in a few minutes,” I answered.

Even so, it seemed a shame to change the music. Larissa was really enjoying it… and so was I. The music was Brazilian and judging by her appearance, accent and the fact she was singing along in Portuguese, I assumed Larissa might be, too.

“Is this Bebel Gilberto?” I asked.

She glanced up and smiled, “Yes, do you like it?”

I nodded and smiled back as she rhythmically created my drink to the beat.

“Of course you do,” Larissa said, “Brazilian music is the best.”

“I can’t believe it!” Robert said semi-jokingly. “Another person claiming to like this noise… what are the odds of that?” Larissa and I both smiled and played along but it was obvious to me that Robert liked more than just Mozart and coffee… and I think Larissa felt the same toward him.

“Why don’t you put on that piano concerto you played yesterday, Larissa? Wasn’t it um… No 21 in C… Andante… 2nd movement… I believe it was K467?”

Larissa looked through rows of CDs before picking up a Mozart sleeve and studied it for a moment, “Right again, Robert, it was K467… I told you he knows everything about music… and he’s teaching me too.”

“I assume you like Mozart?” Robert asked me.

“I’m not sure… I’ve never listened to him.” Read more