I don’t “get” video games. I mean, Tetris is fine and I like word games like Bookworm or Text Twist, but mainstream $600 video games systems with $60 controllers and $50 games just seem like a waste of money. Plus, spending my evenings glued to a video game in which I run around shooting zombies and collecting bigger guns with which to kill zombies sounds totally lame. The worst are the online world games like Final Fantasy, to which my husband is addicted like so much elfen-eared, axe-wielding, crystal of protection seeking crack. He goes “fishing” in the FF world on a regular basis. It’s just like real fishing — you use bait, you have to sit and wait for something to bite — except it’s a goddamn video game. Why not just go fishing? You know, in real life. We have plenty of fishing equipment. We live five minutes from a stocked pond. We live ten minutes from another stocked pond. It’s right there.
However, over the last few months, my dislike of video games has been challenged by my friend, V, and one amazing game: Rock Band. I love Rock Band.
I would stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing Rock Band. I would forego sleep and food for this game. I would pawn personal possessions to acquire this game. And I’m not even that good at it. My bass and guitar skill are improving slightly and I suck at the drums (seriously, my six-year-old kicks my ass at drums). Sure, I have mad singing skillz, but that hardly matters. It is so much freakin’ fun it doesn’t matter if you’re good or bad. And yes, the argument could be made that I could just join a real-life rock band or, at the very least, go to a bar and do karaoke. To which I say, whatever! You just don’t understand me, man! All I wanna do is ROCK!!!*
*in the comfort of my friend’s living room.