Tapping a Beat

My fingers play tricks on me, driving those nearby a bit bonkers, as I drum a beat to a tune running through my head.

I apparently prefer to tap on something that makes a sound, and since I can’t hear it, I am unaware of the irritating thumping. Just because I don’t hear the noise, doesn’t mean those around me can’t hear it, and they don’t have the luxury of hearing the music I’m accompanying with my hand digits.

Usually I‘m not aware what song is playing in stereo in my mind. It could be an old gospel hymn, a Johnnie Mathis hit of the 1950s, Adele’s soothing voice, or Willie Nelson’s “Angel Flying to Close to the Ground.” Whatever the tune, my fingers believe I am the lead percussionist setting the beat for the performance.

Riding in the car with me is like chalk on a blackboard for those enduring my tapping, and until I notice the looks that could kill I’m oblivious to the damage I am doing to the nerves of those around me.

I contend I come by this habit from my mother. We could be sitting next to each other and mother’s fingers would be twitching, not noisily, but gently and softly. When asked about it, she would stop, think, and reply, ‘Oh, I’m playing the piano,’ and she would name the tune.

She grew up playing the piano and even gave piano and voice lessons when I was a toddler, so most of the songs she would be ‘playing’were from the Presbyterian hymnal or 1940 radio hits.

The difference between her twitching and my tapping is I was a drummer in high school, so my finger banging was far more pounding than tapping.

It is best if I mention to people when they hear what appears to be a drum beat, just ask me what tune I’m playing and hope it isn’t John Philip Souza’s famous “Stars and Stripes Forever.”

Of course, those unheard melodies may come out between my lips as I whistle the tune I am tapping. That can really drive those folks nearby nuts, too.