Category Archives: GA

Night Music – Nowhere and everywhere

Back in the day, well – my younger years, my friends and I impatiently waited for the next new amazing band to hit The Midnight Special, Soul Train, or Austin City Limits. You did NOT dare miss it. There were no VCR’s and rerun season was a long way off. If you missed it, you missed it!

I dreamed of singing in a band. I wanted to be Olivia Newton-John, Tennille, Helen Reddy, Karen Carpenter, or, dare I say it – Carole King! My goodness, I wanted to sing! I mean, my dad could sing. He was a professional! He sang in a Barbershop Chorus and with countless quartets. Surely, that meant I had SOME sort of ability?

Nope. Not one iota of harmonic or melodic wonder would ever be emitted from my throat. So, I watched the percussionists. They were cool. I mean Buddy Rich, John Bonham, Ginger Baker, Neal Peart, Ringo Starr – just to name a very few. And then, there is my brother, Steve. He’s a pretty darn good drummer (and videographer). I followed him all around in a banana-yellow Ford Pinto station wagon – late into the night – just to hear him play. But, we got older and responsibility set in. We eventually got jobs and better cars, but there was not much time to sing (except in the car) or play drums. It was back to watching those late-night music shows which now included Kimmel, Fallon, Colbert, and a number of reruns at our fingertips courtesy of YouTube! Amazing little tool – The Midnight Special for our viewing pleasure, at our leisure, with a soundbar instead of the little tv speaker. And at whatever “reasonable time” (8:00pm) we wanted!

Then, during elementary school, my brother gifted my eldest lad a drum set. And the beat went on. He messed around and learned to hit with sticks. The collection of broken drumsticks, cracked cymbals, and shattered drumheads filled the bins. And he got good. The boy got really, really good. And he moved to Athens, GA to graduate as a BullDAWG. He never came back home. He plays the piano, he plays the guitar, he jams with the knowledge of a true musician, he honors the theory and puts it to the test, he channels his inner Buddy Rich, he tours, and he plays his heart out. Where does he play? Nowhere.

Actually, he plays in quite a few places, but the stage with the plate glass window on North Lumpkin Street in Athens, GA is one of his favorite places to play. It is the Nowhere Bar. Lately, Drew has been jamming with some friends who call themselves The While. Although, to see them play with Vera Soul on July 1, 2023, I am going to have to take a nap. Mama got old and the lads play late. It’s when the kids come out to listen to the newest sounds. To say they were there when. To be nowhere when the next best late night sounds float out of an open doorway in Athens, GA and out into the night.

Handing over the wheel…

Drew and his friend Madison celebrate their Learner's Permits in January of 2014.

Drew and his friend Madison celebrate getting their Learner’s Permits.

From The Bleachers…Handing over the wheel
Beth Volpert

This month, my view from the bleachers has been concentrated on the last few weeks of driver training for my 15 year old son. While it sounds a little bit scary, the whole experience didn’t turn out to be as bad as I thought it might have been.

When my son was little, he would admonish anyone else who dared drive my “mommy van” by saying, “NO! Mommy drive the wheel.” These days, mommy doesn’t drive the wheel very often.

We started out last January with his learner’s permit. No big deal. Just a test, a photo and you are off. Well, that and the paperwork proving he is who he is. With permit safely tucked into his wallet, he slipped into the driver’s seat and commenced to steer his way around the parking lot for a while before we moved on to the fairly vacant streets of a new homes subdivision. A few herky-jerky stops and starts gave way to relatively smooth sailing.

Fast forward a year…my son has driven the route to and from our high school so many times that I am sure it seems like old hat, but he always remembers to turn to me and say, “I’m not complacent, anything can happen.” That makes a mom feel a little better. That, and my dad has been the same patient teacher he was when I was learning to drive. That makes me feel better too.

Drew's early driving...

Drew’s early driving…

In the past year, our learner has taken on Monteagle in Tennessee, the awkward, partially paved I-75 stretch from Gainesville to Tampa in the pouring rain, and Snellville. Snellville has been the worst. Anyone who can navigate the narrow roads and insane pace there can drive just about anywhere. He prefers Florida-flat, wide-open and sunny. The sunny part is just a bonus.

Now that his birthday has arrived, we move forward into a whole new realm. One in which my seat in the bleachers-or, in this case, in the passenger seat-is coming to an end. The days of digging my nails into the seat cushion and biting my tongue are giving way to stepping lightly around my house looking for things to do in order to assuage my nervous energies until the boy turns safely into the drive. It is a right of passage and one that I believe is best begun early so that he gets as much drive time in familiar places as possible before I blink again and he is off to college or camp or on tour opening for RUSH. I guess if he is on tour, he won’t be driving…maybe mama will get her CDL… just in case she needs to “drive the wheel” again.