air drummer extraodinare

Music is, to say the least, a very important part of my life.  As for many people, it is an escape, an outlet, a pick-me-up, and something that creates camaraderie among those I hold nearest and dearest.  


After having my first daughter, I got back into the swing of opening shifts at work rather quickly.  These shifts include "throwing the load"...stocking the shelves.  Unlike the large grocery store chains, who may stock the shelves throughout the day and night, we wake up before the sun rises and get all the stocking done before the doors open at 9 am.  On an easy day, I may have about 6 pallets to unload onto the floor.  On a more difficult day, 10-12.  All to be completed within four hours.


Being such a small store, you'd think that maybe we'd have a system to air music while you shop (or, in this case, while we stock), but that is not true.  And so, with nothing to hear but the buzzing of the lights, I would bring my iPod and jam out while I throw the load in the morning.  In this case, it becomes an escape, a wake-me-up and a pick-me-up.  At 5 am, I am still considered to be in zombie mode until I plug the ear buds in and sync up the chosen soundtrack for the morning.  It most certainly has to be something upbeat.  And I most certainly must be able to sing along.  Though a bit bashful at first (I can't sing to save my life), I eventually gave up trying to conceal my attempts at stardom in (quietly) belting out my favorite tunes.  


On one particular morning, I was going through the usual routine of unloading all of the pallets. A little more than half-way through, I was bringing the empty pallet that I had just finished into the backroom to toss all of the unneeded cardboard into the baler (the machine that smashes all of the cardboard into the nice, 6x4x4 square to be hauled off and recycled), 

when the most awesome of all awesome drum solos came a 'blaring in my ears.  I say that, though I can't recall exactly which song it was.  Anyway, I pull the pallet around the corner by the baler and stop just in time to whip out my invisible drum sticks and start playing along.  Totally wrapped up in the song, I didn't even notice my manager coming out of the freezer.  As I opened my eyes and turned to throw something in the baler, I caught sight of him walking towards me, laughing.  Turning every shade of red under the sun, I nervously laughed along. 


"Hey, whatever it takes," he says.


Four hours of work in the morning: $57.
iPod: $199.
Boss catching my air drum solo: sheer embarrassment.
Hitting every beat during the air drum solo: Priceless.


Some things are worth the embarrassment.