I pulled my bass drum away from the wall this evening to see what my son had done. He had added own sticker to my collection. He had stuck his Cars sticker from the dentist over a sheriff sticker I’ve had. My BKG sticker that use to fill the blank spot in the middle was no longer there. One of my kids must of pulled that off at some time. It wasn’t a big deal that this happened.
I looked at all the other stickers that were on the drum, pretty much untouched since September 2000. This bass drum head had been used since about 1998. The stickers represent bands, ideas, people that were part of my life in the late 90’s. Some of the band stickers were from bands we played with often, others were of bands I enjoyed listening too. One sticker is from a trolley ride in Fredericksburg, Virginia where BKG played, another from a SAR team I was on, while another from a record label that pursued us but we said no. All stickers conjure a memory.
Perhaps over time he’ll continue to add his own stickers while mine are covered or pulled off. I look forward to all of it. But before it happens, it was a nice trip down nostalgia lane.
