Osler's Razor

I'm blessed with a family full of different talents. My mother, father, sister, and brother are all capable of doing any number of things I cannot do, and seeing them do it fills me with pride and amazement.

This past Friday, I went to the Cadieux Cafe, on the east side of Detroit, to hear my brother play drums. The occasion was a reunion of people who used to play at the "Hootenanny," an event at the Cadieux where pretty much anyone could come up and play with the house band (of which my brother Will was a member). On Friday, he played behind at least a dozen different acts, all with different styles of music. It was fascinating to watch; he had spent the day transcribing the songs so he could play it right, and then had to watch for cues along the way. He did so flawlessly. It was the kind of thing you had to look for to notice, but if you did it was stunning to see.

And then there is this: Through all of this, he was almost totally hidden behind the drums. He was never the one in the front, never the singer or the one whose name was on the band, but he was at the center the whole time, hidden though he was.

I suppose that it is a metaphor I will remember-- that the most important people, the ones who make things work, are also often those who are hidden behind their work. I need to appreciate and value that kind of vocation; it embodies so many things that are good and worthwhile. Even when it is not my brother, I need to take the time to watch closely and discern who is making things work, and recognize what it is that they do. Our world is much better for them.