Yesterday, Rooster attended a pre-tryout percussion clinic. It was held after school with the purpose of preparing those who are going to be trying out for the percussion section of the marching band.
Rooster had informed me that he probably would not be finished until 7:30pm.
I left home around 6:30 and headed to Panera to pick up dinner. I wanted to make it home before American Idol started.
As I meandered my way back to my house, I took a back road that led me past Rooster’s school.
Because the weather has been absolutely glorious here, I had my windows down.
As I passed by the school, I heard drumming, so I turned my head to see what was going on.
Standing beside the school were several bass players, drums hung over their shoulders, practicing their little hearts out.
Rooster was not among them. He is trying out for snares this year, so he was practicing somewhere else on campus.
Still, I was touched by the dedication of the students I heard playing.
Who really wants to be at school from 7am until 8pm when they could be home watching TV or playing Xbox?
When Rooster finally came home at 8:15, he was dead tired.
His feet and legs hurt.
His hands were sporting three or four blisters as well.
The band will be under new leadership next year, but the changes that have already been put into place have been positive ones. He has a renewed love and enthusiasm for this school activity, and I could not be happier.
As I listened to him tell me about his long afternoon, I was reminded of the poem he submitted for a poetry contest last year.
He wrote it for extra credit for his English class (I, being the mean mom that I am, made him do the extra credit to earn some much needed points). His poem was one of several selected to be published in a booklet that the contest’s sponsor produced.
The poem is below…
Beat of Life
With every measure of music I play
The beat of life comes rocking my way
When I hit my drum with all my heart
I also have to remember my part
If I don’t keep up with the rhythm
Then I may have to put up with the schism
If I make sure to play it right
My line will make sure to keep it tight
The better and better that my chops get
The more and more that my spot is set
So if you think I can’t survive
The beat of life allows me to stay alive
Rooster has always marched to the beat of his own drum.
The song he plays is music to my ears.
Filed under: children | Tagged: band, child rearing, teenagers |
AuburnChick's Adventures 
Wow…that poem really says a lot, doesn’t it? Awesome job! I know he’s making his mama very PROUD! 🙂
I had one tired boy as well … but what fun they had!
He is so exited about next band season ….
I took them all pizza’s around 5, did “Rooster” tell you?
Great poem by the way …. 😉
Awesome! You should be a very proud mama 🙂