Experienced Musician Not Just Chic Drummer

Dammit, I never say I give up, but I GIVE UP! The one thing I have tried to keep from my old life with my husband has been music. I play drums, which any musician or imaginative person can tell, is only so much fun alone. Some people play alone alot, along with CDs and cover songs. I just don’t enjoy that as much, finding that I drown out whatever I am listening to.

After almost a year of running an ad for a bass player answered by several complete nuts, or promising creative talents (who can tell?) nothing came of it. I cancelled it last week. After putting bulletins up on MySpace, networking around and posting on other musician forums, I came to one conclusion. Of the people I talked to, only one was a female acoustic guitar player. The rest were men. And I realized slowly that no one was taking me seriously, not as far as music was concerned.

One who decided that not only would it be great to jam together “sometime”, but for me to take control of his awkward virginity and teach him everything I knew. There were a couple whose long-haired metal appearance threw me off, and surprise! they wanted me to play ska or metal. One has piercings, a snake and asked me if I could see myself fucking him the second time we talked. And he’d love to play… as soon as he got his guitar fixed.

The only real paying gig I got a shot at was playing country music, and the more I listened to Brooks and Dunn, the closer I came to backing out, which is what I did. This followed up by three weeks of talking to a guy I really liked, only to find that he wanted me to come to his place (where my studio is NOT) and he needed a designated driver to go out… so needless to say we never actually got around to playing music.

I wish I could convince my old guitar player Corey to come back, but I’m afraid the musical chemistry was more between him and my husband… whose absence is felt the most when I look at the building where we used to make so much great noise, our instruments turned up to 11, everyone thrashing around in their own little worlds, only to come together at some predetermined moment and look at each other, knowing that nowhere was anyone rocking or rolling as hard or as well as we were at that moment.

I miss my former bass player Bobby. I have a lot of guesses as to why he wandered away from us, but no real reasons. And that hurts sometimes. Fellow musicians become like family. It is an experience shared that bonds you.

And I feel like I won’t find anyone that understands that. Who wants to play the same music I do. Who takes me seriously as a singer and drummer. Not see me as a chic who might go out with them, and oh yeah, she plays music. It is really sad that I actually thought about selling my drums today or giving them to my husband, because they are technically half his. I just felt like I wouldn’t ever go back down to the studio, run in while the band was already playing, take my place and jump in.

There is just silence now.

The ‘Dead To Me’ List

Sometimes it just isn’t worth the effort. Sometimes people grow apart… once loyal and devoted friends, with whom you shared private jokes, similar opinions or mutual hatred of your boss disappear into the mist of time. Memories cloud. New people, new problems, new distractions come into your lives.

It’s not that you didn’t want to pick up the phone… but you look up and six months have gone by.

Sometimes, I am not the best friend in the world. Like my hero Stephen Colbert, I have my own  ”Dead To Me” list, and looking at the latest additions to it, I barely have any friends left. Not that I am not on their list somewhere as well. This includes one of my best friends for 10 years, an old bandmate who owes me money, a man I might have been able to love in another time or place, and a more recent ”friend” who wanted to brag about her engagement ring while I was crying about my husband. There are others, but not even worth mentioning. But letting them go is like putting ghosts on a raft and pushing them off into the ocean, and watching them float away finds me exhaling in relief.

I am, at best, a mediocre friend. I don’t respond quickly to emails. And sometimes I don’t realize that I sound unconcerned about something that is monumentally important to my friends. I also hate being the type of person who is complaining to those close to me, so I don’t stay in touch when things are not going well. But lately there hasn’t been a lot of good news or breathtaking information to share. Who wants to be on the other end of the phone when I tell them that lately I am not crying EVERY day?

I have found that going through a tough personal situation will show you how many friends you really have. Or don’t. Not that I expect anyone to lie awake at night worrying about me, but it seems that the support I am getting comes from unexpected people… and not the ones I thought I could count on. Enlightening if nothing else.

On the other hand, I am well aware that you have to be a friend to have a friend. I am one of those people that do well with just an important few who would report me missing. I don’t have a close relationship with most of my family, except my cousin Ashley and my grandmother. Because my husband and I are having problems, his mother has chosen to stop calling, basically ignoring me & her grandson. I am accustomed to her being a cold bitch at this point. She has the compassion of a Nazi. Were she to show geniune concern, I would be stunned.

Her husband, Dylan’s grandfather, is another story. They are complete opposites. I know if I need anything, I can count on him. I don’t mean financially … I’m trying to handle that on my own. It’s the fact that he expresses love and concern about Dylan. He is the only decent grandparent my son has.

While losing my marriage, it is probably a terrible time to be deleting people from my phone, and blocking MySpace users. But life is short and when you know you aren’t going to talk to someone again or you are tired of being stalked… it’s kind of cleansing. A new beginning. More space in my address book. More time in my life for people who really matter.

 

Late Justice For Megan Better Than None

Maybe Megan Meier’s parents will sleep a little better tonight. Maybe, finally, there will be a moment of peace amidst the storm that began with their 13 year-old daughter’s suicide. Death, and I would think the suicide of a child, would naturally alter the lives of the parents. But this case seems more tragic because it was so senseless.

This girl took her life due to the inconceivable acts of an adult, an adult who should have known better… an adult claiming to be looking for gossip, hiding in the vast shadow of the Internet. An adult posing as a an attractive 16 year-old boy named Josh. This boy, who didn’t exist, chatted with Megan nevertheless. He was sweet at first. She developed a crush on this boy. And when “Josh” turned ugly, it was more than the already troubled teenager could bear. It pushed her to kill herself.

Almost everyone with a television has heard about this case by now. Megan’s parents, after a year of keeping silent, waiting and letting investigators do their job, saw that clearly nothing would be done. I remember their media campaign to warn other MySpace users and clueless parents, if nothing else, to be careful.

Now that charges have been brought against Lori Drew, she will finally have to answer for her cruelty. She has already been all but ostracized in her community. And now she has been charged with one count of conspiracy, and a curious three counts of accessing protected computers without authorization to obtain information to inflict emotional distress on the victim. If that means what I think it does, she went to a lot of trouble to play around with this young girl’s mind. There may be a lot more to the story than we know.

Time and a prosecution will bring out all the details, and I hope Lori Drew pays for her premeditated, irresponsible and deadly actions. Most of all though, like Megan’s parents, I hope it serves as a warning and a deterrent. Internet harassment is rampant, especially among teens, who use it as just another form of bullying. Maybe this will begin a dialogue on how this kind of harassment can be stopped.

There should never be another young girl who hangs herself in her closet. Especially because someone told her the world would be better off without her. While the world is not better without Megan Meier, in some way, maybe she can save someone else.

Rest in peace, Megan.