My Drums
It’s 9 in the morning and its New Years Eve, the ruckus in the kitchen woke me up and I’m wondering what the hell it is. Slowly I get out of my warm comfortable bed and I walk out to the kitchen just find my dad with the cabinets open gathering a bunch of trays and the fire food warmers. “Good morning ugly.” the words came out of my dads mouth with a sarcastic tone. The party was going to be fun; a new years party with friends and family just wanting to have a chill night. I shot him a quick glare of evilness back and he chuckled, no connection is stronger than my dad’s and I. I felt the tiny hairs on my arms stand and my skin grew goosebumps, a quick shiver ascended from the small of my back to my neck. It was too cold, and it was too early to be up on a holiday so I turned around and went back to bed.
Three hours passed by and I hadn’t moved a muscle. My favorite way to sleep is when my room is freezing but I’m super warm in the blankets. Enough was enough, I couldn’t sleep any longer. I opened my eyes and just in a quick second my mind was lit up as if I had never fallen asleep. With one deep breath and all the thoughts flooded in again, the smell of a douglas fir was still lingering in the “crisp” San Diegan air. The party, the one thing that never left my mind even as I dreamed the weird dreams that an eleven year old boy would dream. I got out of bed disgusted with the revolting morning breath taste in my mouth and headed straight to the toothbrush in my bathroom. The smell of food was hitting me from all directions, the drooling in my mouth had finally commenced, but I knew that I wouldn't get any of it until later and the thought of that killed me. “Ding Dong!” someone yelled as they entered our house, the people finally began to arrive.
It was my Uncle Armon; one of my dad’s better friends. He was a cool guy, short and stout with some chubbiness to him. I walked out to greet him and he was happy to be at our house; the excitement was visible on his face. Soon after more and more people began to come, all of them were really close friends and we had family there too. The house smelled of mouth watering, stomach grumbling, finger licking goodness from all the food that was there: pancit, lumpia, adobo, ham, fried calamari, and several desserts. But what stole most people’s attention was the California room. The thing about our California room is that we put our 6 guitars, mic, keyboard, ukulele, bongos, and drum set in there. It looks like the set for an indie rock group is about to play there or something. Most people have never seen a drum set within a house before and every time someone sees it for the first time they always ask my dad, “Who plays the drums?” and his response is always my name.
The drum set was given to me by my Uncle Richard right before he moved to Georgia, he couldn’t take it with him so it became mine. So as the party continued people got excited about all the instruments and were wondering if a little “jam sesh” was going to happen. “OF COURSE its going to happen.” my dad would reply as if it were a stupid question. I was ready to kick ass on the drum kit, three years of taking lesson and mastering songs was finally going to pay off. My dad called me as he was slinging the black and white electric guitar over his shoulder. I walked to the stool and took the drumsticks off the snare. People started yelling songs at my dad and we finally chose something. He started with the intro, the few measures so I could think of a beat to match the beautiful sounding chords of his guitar. I felt it, “1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and ...” I came in with a fill and set a funky beat on that rhythm. Everyone started grooving to the song, someone even grabbed the mic from my dad and started singing along. This new tone had been set at the party. Everyone was laughing and dancing and being happy. It was a wave of smiles, cheers, and laughter that flooded the house. We were all one big family having a good time and letting go of the stress and anxiety of a whole year for one night.
It’s 9 in the morning and its New Years Eve, the ruckus in the kitchen woke me up and I’m wondering what the hell it is. Slowly I get out of my warm comfortable bed and I walk out to the kitchen just find my dad with the cabinets open gathering a bunch of trays and the fire food warmers. “Good morning ugly.” the words came out of my dads mouth with a sarcastic tone. The party was going to be fun; a new years party with friends and family just wanting to have a chill night. I shot him a quick glare of evilness back and he chuckled, no connection is stronger than my dad’s and I. I felt the tiny hairs on my arms stand and my skin grew goosebumps, a quick shiver ascended from the small of my back to my neck. It was too cold, and it was too early to be up on a holiday so I turned around and went back to bed.
Three hours passed by and I hadn’t moved a muscle. My favorite way to sleep is when my room is freezing but I’m super warm in the blankets. Enough was enough, I couldn’t sleep any longer. I opened my eyes and just in a quick second my mind was lit up as if I had never fallen asleep. With one deep breath and all the thoughts flooded in again, the smell of a douglas fir was still lingering in the “crisp” San Diegan air. The party, the one thing that never left my mind even as I dreamed the weird dreams that an eleven year old boy would dream. I got out of bed disgusted with the revolting morning breath taste in my mouth and headed straight to the toothbrush in my bathroom. The smell of food was hitting me from all directions, the drooling in my mouth had finally commenced, but I knew that I wouldn't get any of it until later and the thought of that killed me. “Ding Dong!” someone yelled as they entered our house, the people finally began to arrive.
It was my Uncle Armon; one of my dad’s better friends. He was a cool guy, short and stout with some chubbiness to him. I walked out to greet him and he was happy to be at our house; the excitement was visible on his face. Soon after more and more people began to come, all of them were really close friends and we had family there too. The house smelled of mouth watering, stomach grumbling, finger licking goodness from all the food that was there: pancit, lumpia, adobo, ham, fried calamari, and several desserts. But what stole most people’s attention was the California room. The thing about our California room is that we put our 6 guitars, mic, keyboard, ukulele, bongos, and drum set in there. It looks like the set for an indie rock group is about to play there or something. Most people have never seen a drum set within a house before and every time someone sees it for the first time they always ask my dad, “Who plays the drums?” and his response is always my name.
The drum set was given to me by my Uncle Richard right before he moved to Georgia, he couldn’t take it with him so it became mine. So as the party continued people got excited about all the instruments and were wondering if a little “jam sesh” was going to happen. “OF COURSE its going to happen.” my dad would reply as if it were a stupid question. I was ready to kick ass on the drum kit, three years of taking lesson and mastering songs was finally going to pay off. My dad called me as he was slinging the black and white electric guitar over his shoulder. I walked to the stool and took the drumsticks off the snare. People started yelling songs at my dad and we finally chose something. He started with the intro, the few measures so I could think of a beat to match the beautiful sounding chords of his guitar. I felt it, “1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and ...” I came in with a fill and set a funky beat on that rhythm. Everyone started grooving to the song, someone even grabbed the mic from my dad and started singing along. This new tone had been set at the party. Everyone was laughing and dancing and being happy. It was a wave of smiles, cheers, and laughter that flooded the house. We were all one big family having a good time and letting go of the stress and anxiety of a whole year for one night.