Tss-dat-ts-tss-dat-ts-tss-dat-ts-tss-dat…
The beat repeated over and over as the band plays on.
As it approaches I feel the butterflies flutter.
My arms start shaking nervously.
My hands begin to sweat and grow clammy.
The drumsticks become harder to hold with each stroke.
The band crescendos….
LOuder!.
LOUDer!..
LOUDER!!!... Then,
silence.
Only the drums are playing.
Tss-dat-ts-tss-dat-ts-tss-dat-ts-tss-dat.
Everyone is waiting, all of their eyes are staring.
The band now holds the beat, as the drums take the floor,
Center stage.
Shivering in a cold sweat, fearing failure, I change the beat.
Bass drum and hi-hat start off…
Boom-tss-boom-tss-boom-tss-boom-tss
A snare rolls…
Dadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadada… it crescendos… GAT!
*** dum da de dum bop a duba de dop pop…
I play several measures.
All of them unique, but connected.
Finally the band joins back in, and the pressure is off.
Back to the same old groove, the comfortable beat.
Tss-dat-ts-tss-dat-ts-tss-dat-ts-tss-dat.
The audience roars with applause.
I look to my father, and the smile on his face is all that I need.