Too Old to Rock 'n' Roll

This Saturday, I'll be joining three of my former bandmates—Brian Fuzzell and Zach Collier (with me for many years in Pink Mongoose and Three Hit Combo) and David Dewese (who gracefully allowed me to be in his band, the Foxymorons, for a couple months)—to perform one song at Hillcrest United Methodist in Nashville. We'll be playing a song I wrote for a United Methodist Confirmation resource, called "Grace." (It explains John Wesley's theology of grace in four minutes of rock 'n' roll. I'll be on bass and backing vocals.)


To prepare, we ran through the song about a dozen times in Brian and David's basement and cooled off with a couple old Three Hit Combo songs. Brian and David, both of whom have been hitting the road with Jetpack and the Foxymorons, both seemed unfazed by the experience. David's voice (David is singing lead) was just as smooth and buttery at the end of practice as it was at the beginning; and Brian never once complained of arm soreness. Zach, until recently a member of Mostly Robot and Hail to the Keith, showed minor signs of wear, but nothing significant. As for me, my voice still has not fully recovered and my calves are still sore from standing in my rock stance for so long.

To be clear, I'm not a couch potato. I may be a bit chunky, but that is due to my love of food, not an aversion to exercise. I do 8-10 miles on the stationary elliptical machine every weekday, plus yard work and some weights. Rock 'n' roll just works a unique combination of muscles and joints; muscles and joints that gradually become stiff and useless starting at the age of 27 if one does not maintain a regular practice schedule. I'm almost 30, and, aside from my brief stint with the Foxymorons, I have been out of my rock 'n' roll routine for five-and-a-half years. Maybe I've reached a crossroads: Get busy rockin' or get busy dyin'.