We’ve all had teachers that influenced us, helped us, encouraged us. The same teachers that when we looked back on our lives, we would remember them fondly. This isn’t one of those times.
Seeing photos of Dave Grohl rocking out from a throne suitable only for musical gods such as himself inspired me to re-familiarize myself with his legacy. What I’ve come to appreciate most about Grohl is distinct usage of of drums. Whether it be music back from his Nirvana days, his influence on Taylor Hawkins in Foo Fighters, or Queens of the Stone Age, I can’t help but pick up my invisible drum sticks and bash my elaborate setup of air drums.
When I listen to the radio, I just hear so much music that doesn’t even sound like people. The vocals are all tuned, and the drums are all fake.
When I started grade year at William G. Davis, I had a goal. With my braces tightly wrapped around my teeth, I wanted to graduate from playing the trumpet to playing the drums. I had my sights set on that drum set in the corner since the seventh grade, when we were told that none of us would get to touch for another year. So when our new music teacher, Ms. Brooks-Kirkland, opened the floor for drum tryouts, naturally I made my intentions known. Those who wanted to play the drums participated in a beat test. I nailed it. I know I nailed it. I felt it. I was going to be the next class drummer, until I wasn’t. The see-you-next-tuesday (was never found of this teacher) gave it another student in the class, who previously had been playing the flute. Naturally, I was disheartened and defeated. I gave up on my dream as apparently I wasn’t good enough.
With a month this girl was off the drums and back to the flute, and the drums were left empty for the rest of the year.
After a year of misery and pain playing the trumpet (my braces against the mouthpiece of the trumpet was far comfortable), I moved to the tuba in grade 9. In my final year of highschool I took Grade 9 vocal music for shits and grins. I also dabbled with guitar here and there, but never really took to it.
Fast forward to the doughnuts and Guitar Hero 4, where the complete set came with a drum kit. I took to it. I was nailing it. Just like I know I nailed that beat test in grade 8. With some proper education, I believe I would have been a damned good drummer. Maybe not a Dave Grohl, but certainly good enough to be in a band.
In good conscience, I can’t completely blame Ms. Brooks-Kirkland for my failure to become a drummer. I’m the one that gave up, after all. However, it doesn’t mean that I can’t be pissed that she didn’t encourage me to try harder. But you know what? To hell with conscience. Fuck you Ms. Brooks-Kirkland. You may have well have robbed me of rock stardom.