A Change of Rhythm
“Man plans, God laughs.”
– Yiddish proverb
My co-workers and I thought we were gathering for the facility-wide "communication meeting" held periodically throughout the year. The area was noisy as workers from different lines and shifts greeted each other. When someone we did not know stepped up to the microphone instead of our plant’s leader, it was the first sign that something was off.
The person from corporate introduced himself and then immediately spoke the words that would change the lives of everyone in the room:
"We have made the difficult decision to close this plant."
There was an audible gasp as the statement hit the room like a sonic boom. And then there was dead silence. It seemed to go on forever, but in reality, it lasted no longer than it took the man from corporate to take a breath. He continued to speak, but his words seemed far away and distorted. This was news I had not seen coming and was probably experiencing shock. The words were spoken to explain the reason for the closure, but they were not registering.
The microphone was passed to the corporate HR representative. His voice droned on, connecting no better than the teacher from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, providing critical information that the people in the room were not prepared to hear. Then he said words that pulled me back to reality: "The company is offering employees the opportunity to transfer to other facilities."
This kid is a magnet
My oldest daughter has lived in Washington state since her ex-husband was stationed there. Any hopes that she would return to California when they split were dashed when she met the awesome man she would eventually marry. Their family is quickly growing, and in a few months, my grandson will become a big brother.
Last year, my son and his fiancée also made the move, increasing the pull toward the Pacific Northwest. My wife and I had already been throwing around the idea of following the kids up there; was this news an opportunity to pull the trigger?
Approval of my transfer request has not been given yet, but we have started making the preliminary steps for this massive life change. Trying not to get overwhelmed by the immenseness of this task, I am trying to focus on the next steps instead of looking at the journey. Today's step was meeting with the realtor and putting together the plan for preparing the house for sale.
After the meeting concluded, I asked my wife to put my drum set up for sale. I gave her the practical reason for why this was the logical first step as it would free up some room for the work that had to be done. I think that it was also a way to reassure myself that I was ready to move on. Within a couple of hours of the posting, my wife had found a buyer.
The Beast
I have been playing the drums since I was eight. It is a part of who I am. The only time I did not have a drumset was when I moved from New York to Los Angeles.
The basic part of the set that will be picked up tomorrow was purchased when I first arrived. This inexpensive Pearl Export Series drum set has served me well for almost 40 years.
At first, it only had one bass drum, but as I increasingly moved towards metal, I sought to add a second one. When my father gave me money for Christmas, I knew exactly what I wanted.
Combined with a full electronic kit, my setup was massive. Not quite Neil Peart-sized, but impressive enough for a guy playing clubs without a road crew to set it up. I affectionately referred to it as "The Beast."
I remember auditioning for bands when my ex-wife was several months pregnant, probably about as far along as my daughter is now. As I unloaded, the band was impressed by how much stuff I had fit into the car. And then my pregnant roadie popped out of the back seat!
My current wife added her touch to the kit when she found a set of toms in my favorite color - orange. She was so excited about the present that there was no way she could keep the secret until Christmas. She stopped by my work to show them off immediately after she picked them up.
Behind The Beast around 2011 with Priest From Pluto
It has been a decade since I have been a member of a band and my time behind the kit has been increasingly infrequent. Still, the thought of letting them go has made me more emotional than I was prepared for. Sitting behind The Beast, I've gotten married, raised two kids, gone through a divorce, found love again, and remarried. Beating on them as hard as I could has gotten me through challanging times. Those drums have kept the beat for seven bands on stages throughout Los Angeles, some, like Gazzarri's and the Country Club, that have passed on into history.
A bandmate once asked me if drummers have the same attachment to their drums as guitarists have with their instrument. My response was, “How could I ‘love’ something that I beat on so hard?” But now, as I prepare to part ways, I find that the attachment is there.
Around 1994 with No Decibels?
Tomorrow morning, I am hoping to get one more chance to sit behind those drums. I will then pack them up and send them on to someone else. My wife says the person buying them fixes up kits for students. This takes the sting out of parting ways, as it makes me happy that someone else will be discovering the joy of making music while I settle into the rhythm of the next stage of my life.
Carl Petersen is a parent advocate for public education, particularly for students with special education needs, and serves as the Education Chair for the Northridge East Neighborhood Council. As a Green Party candidate in LAUSD’s District 2 School Board race, he was endorsed by Network for Public Education (NPE) Action. Dr. Diane Ravitch has called him “a valiant fighter for public schools in Los Angeles.” For links to his blogs, please visit www.ChangeTheLAUSD.com. Opinions are his own.