Music sharing time? Music sharing time. My earliest childhood memory is one that has shaped my entire outlook on life. Before I could walk, I was dragging pots and pans out of the kitchen cabinets under the sink and setting them up as drum kits to beat on. By the time I was 3, a pair of chopsticks was in my hand and I was constantly pecking on things with them.
One day, my folks took me to eat at a Bob's Big Boy in Downey, CA, next door to Bell Gardens, where I grew up. I had a tendency to wander off when I wasn't being watched every second, so I was ambling through the restaurant when I came across this lady who was sitting in a corner booth and looked sad, maybe she was or had been crying. Something compelled me to say hi to her, and I showed her some of my drumming. She smiled, and with the most beautiful voice, told me it was very nice and to keep practicing. My mother sheepishly collected me and apologized, taking me back to our booth.
Turns out (I would find out from my ...