At my drum lesson earlier today my teacher, Pepe Jacobo, told me that I must be like a "wood beer" while drumming. We were going over how to increase the speed of 16th notes on the high hat. Pepe is the best teacher I have ever had. I have been seeing him every week for almost two years now and he has taught me much more then how to play the drums. My first lesson consisted of the two of us looking at the sky for an hour while Pepe talked about giving and receiving and time and patience and love. My homework that first week was to look at the sky every single day. Here is a picture of the sky:
Here is a picture of Pepe:
Pepe is Cotsa Rican by birth and I am Wisconsinian by birth and so there are usually some small misunderstandings between the two of us. I turned the phrase over in my head a few times. A wood beer. . . wood beer. . . be like a wood beer. . . Finally I had to tell him. "Pepe," I said, "I have no idea what you mean."
"Wood beer, be like a wood beer," he said to me in his warm way.
There was a small pause, the two of us patiently looking at each other.
"No. . . no," he suddenly said. "Beer-beard-bird-how you say. . . wood bird?"
"Wood bird?" I said.
"Yes! Like a wood bird!" he said.
Then it hit me. "Woodpecker! Be like a woodpecker!" His eyes lit up.
"Yes!" he said. "Be like a woodpecker!"
There was another small pause, the corners of both of our mouths turning up. Then, laughter. Laughter as I have never laughed with Pepe before. Tears running down the sides of both our cheeks.
After we had composed ourselves and resolved to form a band called "Wood Beer" Pepe suddenly got serious. He likes to do this from time to time. "Andy," he told me. "You must be like a woodpecker. What does a woodpecker do?" I tapped my drum stick against the high hat. "Yes," he said, slowly tapping his stick against the other side of the high hat. He increased his speed until his hand was but a blur and I could not tell the difference between his individual strokes. It looked exactly like a woodpecker. "If it exists in nature, you can do it," he slowly said, his hands moving faster then anything. "You can do it as long as you do not separate yourself from nature."
I understood.
Other things that happened today include:
Paid another visit to Bettina (see posts for the last two Tuesdays). I went for the beige tape this time. Been feeling a little conspicuous lately.
Finally visited City Hall (as a tourist). Felt a little like an idiot for being in awe of the grand staircase. Stood outside the office of the mayor for a whole minute trying to figure out if I had anything to say, then walked out, feeling strangely satisfied.
Ate the best pho of my life at Turtle Tower in Little Saigon. Licked the bowl clean.
Missed you.
