Some kids just gotta thumpity thump.
They drum on their tummy,
They drum on their rump.
When the drummin' mood takes 'em,
Those hands start to jump,
Smackin' anything solid
And makin' it bump.
All that they see is a drumstick,
As long as it's long and straight.
Spoons, fingers, pencils, chopsticks,
And celery sticks on plates.
When the beat's in their blood,
Little drummers go thud
With the toilet brush as they're makin' a pudd.
Some folks don't seem to get it -
The librarian, for one.
If you're whackin' the books,
You'll get dirty looks
And she ruins the rhythmy fun.
But don't give up on your drummin' pursuit.
To the finger thump thumpers,
I give a salute.
To the kids who got music deep down in their roots,
To the ones keepin' beat
And tappin' their boots -
I say, keep on drumming.
A piem for all the noise makers and budding musicians. When I was about 10, my friend Nick and I were helping his dad fix something in the basement. I don’t remember what it was. I do remember all the glorious tappy, scraping, drummy sounds I could make with his dad’s tools, though. I really got into it and kept up the beat across 3 or 4 tools at once. It sounded great to me and Nick didn’t seem to mind.
Nick’s dad handed me a drill he’d just finished using and started to ask me to put it away for him. I remember him quickly yanking the tool back and saying, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know what obnoxious sound you’ll be able to make with that”. Over time, this and other incidents taught me to contain my music, but the drummy moods never stopped coming. Now as an adult I occasionally still get the impulse and pretty soon I’m all in, with hands whacking my thighs and feet working a tap dance on the tile floor. My kids get embarassed by it, but sometimes you just gotta give in to the music.
Keep drumming, singing, dancing, or whatever moves you. There’s plenty of time to be embarrassed as an adult so don’t start now. There are times when it might get you in trouble, but bottling it up too long is worse. Share your music when it comes.