Luke on drums: ‘I have another song!’

Palm Coast Observer
Opinion

My 6-year-old son, Luke, found a pair of wooden drumsticks, and the house only got louder from there.

First, he set up several plastic containers that had been sitting silently in a kitchen drawer, minding their own business. Then he started whacking them with all his might. The only thing louder was the sound of his older siblings’ unanimous objection.

“Luke!” they all shouted.

Unfortunately, Luke couldn’t hear them too well, on account of his virtuosity.

“Here,” said Grant, his 18-year-old brother. “Try it like this.”

Grant set a couch cushion and two pillows in front of Luke.

“See how nice and quiet that is?” Grant said.

But quiet didn’t seem to be Luke’s goal. Soon, the pillows were gone, and he was on to ear-splitting wooden chairs.

“Luke!” the siblings shouted again.

My wife, Hailey, and I reminded our older children that they, too, had to start somewhere when learning their musical instruments. The subtext: They, too, were difficult on the ears at first.

“By telling him to stop because it’s annoying, are you saying you want him to wait to play until he‘s good at it?” I asked. I knew I had won the point. No one could deny the logic of—

“It’s too loud!” they all agreed.

Finally, Hailey proposed a compromise: “Why don’t you play in your bedroom?”

Obediently, Luke retired to his room and continued practicing. But that didn’t last long, either. He soon returned with a big smile on his face, proud of a solution that was sure to please everyone:

“How about if we have a family concert?” he said. (Hailey and our 14-year-old daughter, Ellie, both play the flute.)

Nope, he was told. No one knows the song he’s playing, so it won’t work.

Day after day, he was banging on hard surfaces with his drum sticks, occasionally making a pattern with the “beat.” Mostly, his skinny arms flailed wildly, all elbows, with a stoic expression on his face, in pursuit of something, creating music in ways that, to some, push the definition of “music” to thought-provoking ledges of artistic cliffs.

I couldn’t help but admire his persistence.

“You want to participate in my concert?” Luke asked the next day, after setting up his ramshackle drum kit once again.

“Too loud!” came the predictable groans.

Luke was uninsultable, grinning, not out of obstinance but, I believe, innocence, responding: “Concerts are supposed to be loud!” And, “I have another song!”