Storm of Thoughts

You Might Call Me a Rock Star

I have a brother, so it was no surprise to me when I moved in with Pete that he had a certain attachment to his Xbox. And while he occasionally lets me play with him, my complete inability to use (or, seemingly, to even learn to use) the controller makes me more of a video game spectator in our house. (Or, you know, the person in the other room on the computer while the game playing is going on.)

He used to have Guitar Hero, which I thought was a good game only in theory. In practice, I found the guitar even more difficult to use than the controller. (Clearly, I’m video game impaired.) And while the game was sometimes fun to watch, games aren’t fun forever, and Pete eventually gave it up. Apparently, guitar playing had taken a toll on his wrist, and the money he could get by trading it in convinced him to move on. It was a relief to me not to be asked to give the guitar another chance and to no longer have to explain to him and others that playing Guitar Hero does not mean you can actually play a guitar. (They should maybe put that in the instruction booklet.)

Yet you could see the sadness in his eyes whenever his friends went on to become even greater Guitar Heroes without him. And then came Rock Band. If playing guitar is exciting, imagine how much fun it is to have your own band. Yet Pete never bought Rock Band and instead lived vicariously through his friends. (Again with the sadness in his eyes.)

Which brings me to this weekend. Rock Band 2 came out yesterday. And you might not be surprised to hear that it has already found a place of honor in our living room. Before convincing himself that it was worth the money, though, Pete implored me to play with him – and I agreed (as long as I could avoid the guitar). I first tried the drums. They were mildly amusing, although I still had some problems. (Pete assures me, though, that it’s always hard at first and I’m not necessarily a lost cause.) He asked me again to try guitar. (Um, no thanks.) And then, finally, I picked up the microphone.

Although I could barely stumble my way through an easy song with that stupid guitar, I found I could hold my own with the mic. We spent our night rocking out on everything from Dani California to Last Train to Clarksville. We laughed our way through Hungry Like the Wolf (once we saw what all the lyrics actually are). I even created my own rock star character. And, much to my surprise, I not only didn’t fail any songs, I scored in the high 90’s – and even earned a few 100% accuracies. (Which, because of my history with Xbox, was especially impressive.) In fact, several times I was named “Most Energetic.” (Which is maybe surprising to those who know me and would normally consider me less than effusive.) But my Rock Band alter ego (who I like to refer to as “Chrissy Moonbeam”) was clearly born to be a rock star. That picture would even make the perfect album cover. The microphone, apparently, was the only missing piece.

Now, not only is Xbox fun for me, it gives us something else to do together. Plus, you know, I may have found my true calling. Is it too late to join a rock band?

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