When I was coming up in the 1970's, I had to take piano lessons. Lots of kids did. Or at least some other instrument. A good education was at the top and beneath, was learning an instrument. It's what our parents' generation believed. I was on board with it...to a point. I loved music. I loved the piano. Problem was, I was horrible. No natural talent and picking it up under great tutelage...uh, still, no such luck.
And I had great teacher. Mrs. Tickner. She was so sweet and incredibly patient. I was about 10 when I started. Fridays after school I'd head to her place on my bike. She'd greet me with the kindest smile. A small plate with two cookies, usually peanut butter, and an 8 ounce glass of milk would always await my arrival—sitting just so on the ledge to the right of the piano. She'd ask me how my school day went. I'd tell her everything in great, slow detail in the hopes she'd be so enthralled, she'd forget I was there for a lesson. My play at distraction never worked. Nary a once.
We'd start with whatever I had prepared. Problem, again, was I had zip prepared. I practiced, but never improved. I'd ask her to play the exercise one time to help jog my memory. She would always comply. And I'd take the opportunity to check the time. It was so heartbreaking that I still had a good twenty minutes left.
Still, I liked this part of the lesson even more than the milk and cookies. I truly loved piano. Especially when played by someone who knew what the heck they were doing. I'd toss Mrs. Tickner a thousand compliments. Wasn't flattery the way to get out of doing that thing you don't want, or can't do? I'd seen Eddie Haskell do it tons of times on Leave It To Beaver.
She was on to me, obviously. Eventually I'd have to face the music. (Please tell me you saw that one coming). Somehow we'd manage to get through the 30 minute lesson and I'd hop on my bike and blast home. Once there, I'd sprint to the stereo and crank up Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple or Alice Cooper on my dad's HiFi stereo system. So living the dream.
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| Fur Elise, kinda |
When I became a drum teacher I always thought about Mrs. Tickner. I didn't give my students milk and cookies, but I made sure to be as kind as possible. What if these students were forced to play drums against their will as I was with the piano? It didn't happen much. Most of my students wanted to play drums. And parents wrestling kids onto piano benches or drum thrones was a thing of the past.
Maybe our parents were a little over the top. But parents of the early 2000's when I began teaching were a little too loosey-goosey. Most rarely made their kids practice. And they could quit at any time. I was stuck on Beethoven's, Fur Elise for 3 years before my parents let me quit. 3 years...my poor parents! And still I was only allowed to move to drums if I committed to lessons. I committed with every ounce of my being.
But parents then and for the 20 years I taught, didn't push. Schools began dropping music classes. The video game world grew. Slowly, kids lost interest in music. Or at least creating it anyway. Music suffered, in my opinion. And my opinion is fact, by the way. Where are we today? AI now has a foot print. AI is learning. And non-musicians who know how to prompt and corral AI are creating horrible music. AI scrapes from original material and spits out its stolen product. Creativity suffers. Talent diminishes. Art, once again, takes a shot, square in the center of the nuts! Dang it!
I'm not saying there aren't young artists on the rise. These things are rarely absolute. But there is a serious deficit in the music world. As AI grows and young generations accept the music...heaven help us.
All I can say is I'm so glad I came up when I did. A time of live concerts where players actually played. No lip syncing or backing tracks. Vinyl records. Album covers with amazing art. Concept albums that told stories. I know I sound like the bitter boomer shouting, "Get off my lawn," and I don't care. But in reality I'm a Gen Xer who rocked and went on the road and loved every minute of playing small clubs to outdoor festivals. The real thing, baby. The real McCoy. I played and I attended and I'm a better man for it!
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| Keep real music alive, please!!! |
Music made by good women, men and children is AWESOME! Even if it all begins with a few, ahem, difficult piano lessons! Is it me or do y'all feel like some peanut butter cookies right about now?
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