It started innocently enough, a few whacks on a snare when I was really young.  Joined a punk band and played bass with a drummer, boy he sure drummed.  But I didn’t see the harm in it.  He left his drums in my basement and I… experimented.  But it wasn’t a problem.

Years later, I had lots of opportunities to try drumming, sometimes for whole songs at a time.  Nothing tricky or fancy, just holding down a pattern while the usual drummer was singing.  Maybe that was the seed, I don’t know.  It didn’t seem like a problem.

Fast forward to last year.  I got this game, maybe you’ve heard of it… Rock Band.  It came with this mini set of plastic and aluminum drums, four pads and an imitation kick pedal.  I didn’t think much of it at first, preferring the plastic guitar which I was already pretty good at.

But the more it sat there, the more the temptation grew, until one day, I sat down and played the drums again.

I didn’t get obsessed right away — it took months to develop the habit.  Eventually I got hooked.

Hitting things in rhythm, the physical exertion, the feeling of one’s whole body being involved in the music… exquisite.  I couldn’t get enough.

My housemates had heard quite enough though.  It’s lucky that I had a big trip coming up, 2+ weeks away in Australia and Japan (which turned into 9 weeks), because it let them forget about how freaking noisy my little drum habit was.

When I was in Japan I met a few drummers who did other kinds of drums — taiko, kodo, stuff like that.  It’s great stuff but kinda hard to find.  Basically it just stoked the fire for me, thinking about the beats I’d hammer out when I got home.

And when I got home, a certain couple, “making up for lost time”, who will remain nameless but you know who you are, sent me a fantastic electronic drum kit with very realistic action from the pads and cymbals, but which is even more freaking noisy than the little Rock Band drums.

These days all I think about is when I can get another fix.  It’s so loud, I know it hurts the people around me… but I can’t stop.  I try to just do it when nobody’s home, so no one will notice or care… but with 3 housemates and only one with a day job, it’s just about impossible.  People come home in the middle of my “rocking out” and I just know they’re thinking what a junky I am and wishing I would just stop.

It rips my heart apart.  I want to drum, create music, be a part of the music in a way I’ve never fully engaged in before.  I’m getting really freaking good at it now, and I have the equipment to match.  But I can’t play… not here at home.

So the gig is up.  I’m a drum addict, everybody knows it, and everybody’s pretty annoyed with it.  I’m depressed and I need help.

(Ok, I’m not actually depressed.  But I am a little frustrated that I’ve gotten myself hooked on a fundamentally noisy hobby.  Headphones don’t help when you’re essentially whacking tupperware with wooden sticks.  Hrm….)

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