Okay, I rock because Guitar Hero told me I do. And so did the legions of screaming fans through the encore session of my latest concert, somewhere on the back of a big-rig truck. It was all so crazy rock-n-roll that I don’t remember where the concert was. But that’s okay, because tonight it will be another concert, another night of desperate, screaming groupies, clamouring for my rockin’ guitar abilities.
Ah, the life of a rock star.
Like the road of any musical genius, my path to superstardom started with guitar lessons that were not as easy as I thought they would be. But eventually (15 minutes), my fingers found the correct colour-coded chords to press, and my strumming hand managed to find its own rhythm. My instructor told me I was ready to start playing in a garage band, and maybe follow them around on their quest for fame.
It was an intimidating offer. Was I really ready? Did I have what it took? Gulp.
I accepted the offer. I donned my torn leathers, teased my hair and shined up my Gibson. I was as ready as I would ever be.
My first song in my first concert? Slow Ride, by Foghat.
I must say that the crowd was not very forgiving. After messing up the first 30 chords or so, those ungrateful fans booed me right off the stage.
Whatever.
Good thing my band members were more forgiving. Slow Ride, one more time please.
After being booed off three more times, I finally got it. 79% of chords hit. YEAH! I rock. What? That's like a C+, right?
But as the songs went on, I didn’t rock so much. Even though I was booed off the stage more times than I was congratulated on my guitar playing prowess, I soldiered on, and it was all worth it, when the final song was played, and the crowd wanted an encore.
That’s right. An encore. From me, the rock goddess. And I gave them one. A rockin’, shockin’, jumpin’, clappin’, throw your bra at me encore.
Oh yeah, I rock alright. When I finally put my guitar down for the night, I was exhausted. My arm hurt from strumming, my fingertips were sore from the guitar chords, but it was a fulfilled exhausted. Because. I. Rock.
Wait – did I tell you that was on the easy level? Doesn’t matter – I still ROCK. And I beat Slash. Who's the rock god now, huh? Huh?
Here’s the thing. It’s just not acceptable to let all the kids have the fun with video games. Although it’s not healthy to spend every spare moment trying to obtain the status of deity in a video game, it’s also not healthy to go all ‘adult’ and pretend you’re too old to enjoy playing one.
I am convinced that Guitar Hero is for our generation, not that of our kids. Go ahead, ask them – who is Foghat? Who is Cream, or Heart? Their blank stares alone should have you kicking them off Guitar Hero so you can show them how to really rock.
Promise me, parents. Promise me you will take just two minutes to try out some of these games that your kids love so much.
After all, we had to play outside when we were kids. We didn’t have this cool stuff. It’s your turn to zone out on the video games that you probably bought in the first place, while you kick the kids outside to study plant or highway life.
I wasn't the only one Dad told to go play on the highway, was I?
Have fun, parents. And don’t forget to get your ROCK ON!
