So, about your band, son…

Just a quick note this morning, son, about your band.

I know a little something about being in a band in 4th grade. I used to be the drummer in this band called the Beatles when I was your age. You may have heard of them. Picture just about any boy-band that’s popular today then add talent, and that’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.

When I say I was in the Beatles, I pretty much mean that I had this plastic toy drum and I used to play along with my Beatles record (That’s this thin black plastic thing that had little grooves in it and you’d— oh forget it, I’ll describe records some other time). 

I used to open my bedroom window, turn up the music, and play my drum along so everybody walking by could hear. Even though they certainly thought the Beatles were having live practices in my bedroom, the neighborhood was really respectful and nobody ever interrupted practice to get autographs or anything. They were all pretty cool about it.

So that’s why I feel qualified to give you these two bits of wisdom about your band:

First of all, your decision to all get wierd hairdos in lieu of learning to play instruments is probably the right way to go. It’s cheaper and has proven to be a tremendously successful approach in the entertainment industry.

Second, I’m sorry that you guys broke up at the first practice. I know it’s hard to practice when the drummer keeps putting mud in his mouth and spitting it at everyone. But given that none of you can actually play any instruments, that kind of behavior by a drummer is actually the only thing you guys have in common with a real professional band. Well, that and breaking up on the first day of practice. It turns out that the Beatles had already broken up before I even joined the band.

So you’re closer than you think to full-on Rock Star status and I’m really proud of you.

Oh, and I’m pretty sure that I heard Ryan’s mom offering to have you guys always practice at their house.