Diary Of A Drummer! (A 40 year journey, PART 1)

My name is Dave Lauber.  I have been a professional drummer for well over 30 years, and drumming for over 40.  My fantastic journey began when I was about age 5.  Back then I can remember always tapping and banging on everything in sight, everywhere, all the time.  I was obsessed with music and sound.  My father was an entertainer, sort of like Fred Astaire, but not as wealthy! My mother even showed musical interests as she loved her little air-controlled chord organ, and played all kinds of songs on it.  I was told I got my talent from my grandfather, who could play nearly anything.  The facts that far back are a little foggy today, so I will give you the early part of the story as best I can remember it.


Growing up in an old house gave me access to a number of cool things that helped spark my interest in percussion.  Two things I remember most clearly are the iron radiator (as seen in the picture top left) and the cardboard sticks (left) that used to hold pants on hangers back in the day.   Luckily, with lots of people living in the house, we had tons of hangers!  These were my very first drum sticks, and they worked pretty well, at least for a couple hours until they fell apart!  I would get two hangers from one of the closets in the house, and start drumming on the radiators, pipes, pots, pans, lids, shoe boxes, magazines, furniture, pillows and basically everything once, and the things that made cool noises I would keep coming back to. I was going through hangers at an alarming rate, and soon had to get creative.  I had to double up clothing, putting my sisters sweaters over their blouses, and even sneaking their clean clothes into the hamper to free up more hangers!  I'm sure my mother appreciated that with six kids to wash clothes for, already.  Anyway, you get the idea.  I had a fixation, and I knew I had it bad!

My father was constantly playing music around the house, and I noticed how he would always be in a great mood if he was singing and dancing to music.  It didn't matter what type of music, it was all nice to hear back then.  The music always moved me.  It made me happy, sad, jumpy, excited and wacky.  Most of all, it made me want to play along with it, so I did...every chance I got!

One year my parents decided to get me a toy drum for Christmas.  It was a little metal drum with a paper head.  Their heart was in the right place, and I have to assume it was all they could afford.  You see, my father worked very hard, but we simply had too many kids, kinda like the Brady Bunch!  It wasn't long (the same day, if I remember correctly) before I busted the paper head, and was without a drum.  I can remember trying to tape it up, but it just didn't sound the same, and soon busted again.   It was then my parents realized that I needed real drums, and that would change my life forever.  Soon after we recovered from the expenses of Christmas that year, my parents went secretly looking for a real drum set for me.  I don't remember looking with them.  If I remember correctly, my father just came home one day with a gold-sparkle 4pc Gretsch kit (pictured above) complete with a stool, hi-hat and cymbal!  I don't remember where he got it, or how much he paid for it.  I was ecstatic, so say the least, and  I immediately began my journey.

I remember walking home from school one day, and I heard this sound coming from a garage nearby.  I walked closer and closer to the sound, and I soon realized it was someone playing drums.  The door was open a little (things were different back then, and it wasn't odd to just walk up on another person's property, even if you didn't know them) and I peeked inside to see what was going on.  It turned out to be George Wozunk, who was in a family band called "The Brothers Three" that was managed by their father.  Hopefully, my sister will find my blog and correct the accuracy of this part (she has a vivid memory compared to mine), but  I think George went to a different school than me, which was odd because they lived right next to the school where I went.   What I can't remember is whether I knew George personally, yet, or if I saw him playing with his band at some event, but for some reason, I felt it was OK to go and bother him.  The important part of this is the fact that George saw how excited I was to hear and see him play.  He knew I had the bug.  He let me try his drums!  He said I had potential (keeping in mind that although we were like 5 or 6, he was already playing out professionally and taking lessons).  He said I could come by from time to time and he'd show me some tricks, and so I did.

THIS IS ME TODAY - TAKEN AT FLASH BASH 2010

After a few weeks, George asked if I wanted to take lessons, and if so, he'd introduce me to his drum teacher.  Of course, I ran home and asked my parents and begged and begged, but there was just no way to fit it into our budget.  So I went back and had to explain to George that I couldn't afford lessons, which was an early lesson in humble for me.

Now I had the bug more than ever.  I had a kit I could be proud to play anywhere!  I ran back to my friend, George Wozunk, and asked him to teach me more.  He said he was running out of things to show me, and that he would talk to his drum teacher to see if there was any arrangements that could be made.  A few days later, he told me to go and talk with his instructor, George Hague, who lived in Vineland, the next town over.  Mr. Hague said he knew I wanted to play drums more than anything, and he was going to help me, but we had to make a deal.  I would do almost anything at this point, so we agreed that in exchange for drum lessons, I would march in his "all percussion" marching band, the "George Hague Drum Corps".  I had to keep up with my lessons, as well as learn the parts for the drum corps at the same time.  I was a smart boy, even at that age, and I knew what opportunity had just fallen into my lap.  Now, I just had to talk my mom and dad into driving me to Vineland once or twice a week, which they agreed to in exchange for extra chores around the house.  I guess you could say at the age of 5 or 6 I was already "networking" in the music biz!

So, I began to play the real kit.  I began to learn to read, and I learned how to march holding a snare drum.  I was having the time of my life!  This was the most awesome thing that could happen to me, and I was appreciative.  I learned my parts, and then some. I was excited to go every week to see Mr. Hague and his smiling face and his big mustache...he was my next best hero to my dad!  I never, to this day, forgot what George Wozunk did for me back then, and I give him credit for creating an opportunity for me to be a drummer.  I still contact him, even recently, to thank him, and tell him I haven't forgotten what he's done for me...the most recent contact via Facebook!  In PART 2, I will continue to discuss my journey into the world of music through my teens.  I hope you enjoyed PART 1, and stay tuned, as I will get the post up as time allows, and hopefully before the the end of November 2011.  Feel free to share the blog and leave comments, and "follow" my blog if you enjoy my stories! Thank You...