The first instrument I remember being into was guitar. My parents had a couple of crappy acoustics lying around, and I'd mess around on them. And by mess around, I don't mean anything remotely musical, I mean a four-year-old's version of the oldies her dad always plays on the radio - believe me, it wasn't pretty. I don't remember if either of my parents could play - as far as I can recall they never did, so the guitars must have been some cheap hunks of wood they picked up somewhere in Israel (that seems to be where they got all the random stuff they never use). Anyway, at that age, guitar was the COOLEST thing EVER. I'd draw pictures of them and write stories (the kid-version, complete with horrible spelling and backwards inch-high letters). But I was never into it realistically. It was one of those things where I'd pick it up and pretend I could play, just the same as I'd sit on the bed with a dowel and pretend I was in a boat spearing a shark (played by my little brother squigglin' around on the floor). Well, we moved not long after, and the guitars went in storage for years, and the interest lagged...
I got my start as a pianist who only gave it a half-assed try with a mother who demanded an ass-and-a-half. And yeah, yeah, to begin with I did want to play after seeing my cousin layin' it down so smooth. But it wasn't what I expected - what does a six-year-old know anyway? My teacher was mean and obsessed with Hanon - which I HATED more than anything. So most of my lesson consisted of me doing a run-through of every exercise I had done up till then, and using the time left over to play twenty-note songs with a lame, stick-in-your-head, irritating-as-hell tune. I had okay rhythm and my sight-reading wasn't too shabby either...but I never paid attention to measures, phrasing, time signature, or whatever that thing that tells you the speed to play is called. I just read the notes and played it however I friggin' felt like playing it. 'Cause theory sucked major ass.
Hanon dude died, and I cycled through a couple of teachers who were no good with a year or two of on-off lessons. About that time I was sick of piano, but I wasn't allowed to quit because my mom was into this whole classical music scene with an 'I never got to, so I'm giving you this opportunity' little twist. And my cousin was kickin' some serious ass on piano and violin. So guess what? I started playing violin! I think I hated that right from the start (except for that one scale-like song about the monkey and the pink banana). That Suzuki method was too damn structured, and that quarter-sized violin was uncomfortable and sometimes painful to play. Especially when I'd play the notes wrong, and my teacher would grind my fingers into the strings in the correct places.
I hated practicing (minimum requirements being one hour a day per instrument), I hated lessons (hasn't anyone invented any cool songs?), I HATED performing (and that seemed to be the part supermom was most interested in). Church gigs, receptions, auditorium in front of the whole goddamn elementary school, competitions, and while you're at it, please entertain these guests? Look! It's a dumbass kid screeching away like a cat on her violin - feel free to laugh! Old ladies that smell of decades-old makeup and have a penchant for touching and patronizing, please...just tighten your grip a little more and put this kid out of her misery.
While all this was going on, I never started hating music. My only experience with music revolved around classical and oldies, and I remember the Surfaris' Wipeout being one of my favorites...(might it have been the drumming?) I was taken to quite a few orchestras, symphonies, and operas - I didn't care too much for dressing up, and sitting still through them was a lot of work, but I guess they did me some good. When nobody was singing, I even enjoyed it, especially when they played Star Wars and ET themes at the pops concerts. And it was during one of these concerts that a drummer was born.