Okay, seriously, I just hit things and make noise. But I seem to be good at it.
My parents both played music, my father with the Grand Ole Opry, with his own
bands, with others, and as a studio musician; he played guitar, banjo, drums, and sax.
But it was my mother who played the bongos on stage between the other acts I blame
for my percussive nature. My grandfather likely also gave me incentive to carry this
dream beyond childhood when the drum set I received for Christmas magically
disappeared after I went back to school a week later.
One of my husband’s bands at the time needed a washboard player, and I had always
wanted to learn, so I read a lot, watched a lot of videos, then ordered one and