When I was 5 years old I got my first drum, a tom tom that a neighbor gave me for Christmas. It came with a small wooden mallet that had a round blue rubber tip. A gray rubber skin, tied with a thin rope, held the drum skin in place. I played the head of that drum night and day until my mother, who was not blessed with patience to begin with, got rid of it. I was not a happy camper when I discovered that my only instrument had been unceremoniously removed. Struck by sadness and frustration, I pestered my parents to replace him, over and over again, but they didn’t. I would not win this battle, so I gave up the fight, but my love of playing the drums was etched in my brain forever. Over the years, my fascination with drums grew exponentially. When I entered my teens I started working with my parents in hopes of wearing them down. My father insisted that I play a “nice” instrument like the piano or the violin. “All the drummers I knew were crazy,” was the psychology he used to try to derail my love affair with drums. I never bothered to ask him how many drummers he had met who were going to play drums, but he had met more than a few people who did not play a full deck who came without playing a paradiddle.

Go ahead a few years. I’m 19 years old, I’m in college, and after putting it off for an eternity, I tell my parents that I found a good drum teacher, a job, and that I’m going to pay for my lessons and my drums on my own. This time the victory is mine.

During the next 15 years I developed some skills and, despite my great fear of failure and rejection, I began to play semi-professionally; bar mitzvahs, weddings, rock bands, jam sessions, and a variety of independent concerts. The problem was that I lacked discipline and concentration. I wanted instant results. He longed for fame and all its traps. He had no knowledge of the process. If I couldn’t “master” something the first time it was because I was incapable, lacked talent and / or intelligence. He did not understand the time, energy and effort required to master any instrument. When I practiced, I neglected all the things that presented difficulties for me. There were specific elements of my instrument that required my full attention, but when faced with any challenge, I would withdraw to that safe and ultimately unrewarding place called limbo. Finally, rejection took hold of me and I folded my hand and charged.

Over the years the regrets increased and I knew in my heart that I was living an unsatisfied life. Now he was traveling a road that was full of commitments with no room for dreams. I opted for jobs that were “a means and an end.” But there was no end. The journey was always the same. I paid for my fare and ended up in the same place with the same predictable stops along the way. The clock was ticking. It was time for a transformative change. I was heading to no man’s land if I failed to face my flaws and limitations and learn the importance of self-awareness in regards to all relationships in my life. A new and exciting journey was in front of me. If I wanted my life to change. If I wanted to find meaning in the things I did, I had to change. No one could do it for me. And that’s exactly what I did. Like everything in life, it wasn’t always a day at the beach, but there were important lessons to be learned and I was learning them. Every aspect of my life was improving. In college I became part of an improv group. I was writing and acting and living and loving every minute. I finally participated in an underground television production called “Video Madness”. After encouragement from my wife and fellow actors, I went on to formally train with the amazing Tim Phillips. In that moment I firmly understood what it meant to focus and persevere. To achieve any success, I would have to work hard and understand that success would not be handed to me on a silver platter. Sam Goldwyn said: “The more I work, the luckier I get.” I was going to have to work hard to make my own luck. Now when I took a job, I did it with a sense of purpose. I don’t have full time jobs. Every job I took was in support of my dreams. I wasn’t going to back down or give up. He was not going to succumb to an unsatisfied life. I had chosen my path and I was going to stick with it. And I have.

Today I am fully involved in my acting study which began in 1988. Two years ago I began studying drums again with the notable Dave Meade. I am back on track to do the things that I love and need to do to maintain balance in my life. I know and understand that life will always present me with challenges, but instead of walking away from them, I embrace them as opportunities for growth and change. I wouldn’t do it any other way.