So, here in Ann Arbor Mich we have our very own Rock Band School. It’s run by this guy, whom I’ve known since he was a little kid running around with my best friend’s younger brother. Rock Band School is pretty neat. They offer private and group (i.e. rock band) lessons. They arrange gigs, they have workshops on how to promote your band, how to set up your stuff on the stage, how to feed the band for $10 (“nutrition for starving musicians”) and how to withstand what they euphemistically call “the pressures” of being a rock star. :)

Joey has a drum kit and he started taking private lessons through the school last fall. Just this week he started Rock Band 101 along with four other 12yos (2 guitar, 1 keyboard, 1 bass). He was soooo excited, and, I must confess, so was I. In fact, I think all the moms were pretty excited. Can you picture it? Five moms sitting in the lobby, getting all misty over the opening riff of “You Really Got Me.”

Wait a second…

Rock ‘n roll isn’t supposed to involve moms driving their kids to class, paying for lessons, checking with the teacher to see how well they practiced this week, waiting proudly in the lobby. I mean, isn’t the glamour & romance of rock ‘n roll all about defying parents and learning it the hard way?

On the other hand, those mommy moments don’t come so often when they’re 12. I’ll take ‘em any way I can get ‘em.