This past weekend, I finally had the opportunity to “jam” with my good friend Scott. It has been the better part of a year since we were last able to get together to practice something that means a lot to both of us: music.
A rough start was had at rekindling the musical bonds that were once fluid executions, but after several songs we started making our way through the cobwebs that dotted our talents at this specific performance.
In the middle of our warm-up song, a tiny voice emerged from the ceiling vent for the central air system…
“Dad? …. What are you doing?”
It was Scott’s daughter Lilly. Each of us had thoughtfully built our “practice rooms” to incorporate a near ton of insulating material to reduce the noise levels throughout our homes, but had never thought about the issue of duct based noised transfer. Obviously, our practice session had come booming into her room, and she had got out of bed and ran to the vent and was eavesdropping.
“We’re playing practicing music” Scott replied to his daughter as he stood facing the ceiling underneath the vent looking like he was having a conversation with his creator.
“Ok… who is down there with you?”
“Mr. Jay is.”
“Are you playing the guitar, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“And is Mr. Jay playing the drums?”
“Yes, he is. Do you want us to play something for you?”
“Yes, you can play something.”
At this point we were both laughing so hard at the situation we almost missed Lilly counting out the start of the song for us.
“One. Two. Three. Now play.”
After the next full song, we heard nothing for our vent based audience and had hoped that our melodies had lulled her to sleep.
It is my hope that we can continue these practice sessions and cement our abilities into something approaching (and even exceeding) our previous capabilities from previous lives that stood on stages playing before the crowded bars of our yesteryears.
At least for now, I’m happy to be playing again…
jp
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