The more intently I would stare at the sand slowly falling into the base of the egg timer, the slower it would seem to fall. Outside the window I could hear my pals playing and having so much fun without me. It didn't help of course that every so often they would knock on the window and call me names like sissy, because all seven year old boys knew only girls took lessons and played the piano, not guys. They'd yell at me and hoop and holler trying to shame me into coming outside to play but I couldn't because I had to practice for an hour every day after school and much to my chagrin the egg timer kept the time perfectly. Keeping in mind that my dear Mother was always within hearing range there wasn't any way to sneak out since she could hear any time that I stopped playing. Now and then she would go outside and run my buddies off but they'd usually come back and the instant the egg timer would finish I would race out the door to join them. This intimate relationship with the egg timer lasted for three years until I was ten and my Mother finally tired of fighting with me to practice every day and let me quit taking piano lessons.

I hated that egg timer with a passion but the reality is it played a huge part in my career as a professional musician, songwriter, artist and music producer. All those hours spent learning to read music and the keyboard gave me a solid musical foundation that I rely on and use to this day. I no longer use a timer but I practice every day on at least one of my assorted instruments if not several, and I'm still learning every time I play. I'm also preparing and keeping my mind and my fingers ready to be able to stand on any given stage in the world in front of an audience and deliver to them a quality and meaningful performance while entertaining them from the second we hit the stage to hopefully years after as they reminisce and remember back with their family and friends about the show we gave them and how much fun they had, how good the music was, like I do when I think back to great concerts I've attended in my lifetime.

When you really break it all down to the essence of what being a musician in a band is all about, it's to deliver quality music, whatever your genre, to as many people as possible as often as you can. That's when it gets special, when the songs almost play themselves, when everyone in the band clicks and intertwine so intricately that the notes weave and spin in perfect time and harmony, floating in the air effortlessly but with such purpose, drawing on the listeners emotions and feelings, taking them to another place and time but in that exact moment. The only way you can do that as a band is to practice and then play together, night after night in sequence. Things start to happen within each song making them unique and special and actually different every time you play them after spending that much time together. They become your own "classics", even if you are only playing together in a garage or storeroom or band house with out an audience. This will happen if you and your band mates make the commitment to be the greatest band you can be, and when you do put what you've created on stage it will blow people away from your first show on and go to a whole other level drawing momentum and strength from the power granted to you by the only way possible, by your fans.

No matter how good you are now, the more you play the better you will become. There will always be tons of reasons you can come up with not to practice, lots of reasons to spend your time in other ways. It's a choice we all make and a choice that I feel will ultimately determine who's the best of the best.

I know that technological advancements have replaced the old fashioned egg timers like my mom used and they've gotten fancy and went digital years ago. Meanwhile for me, I'll never forget practicing piano to that egg timer and treasured memories of my dear mother, Maxine Herrmuth.