We got our boys ROCK BAND for Christmas. Friday, after setting the game up for the boys, I was asked to join their ROCK BAND. Our oldest son is the gamer among us. He’d had some experience playing this game and Guitar Hero with his friends, so he would clearly be the band’s leader.
Our younger son hasn’t shown much interest in video games, but he likes to rock and demonstrates the most potential for being a future frontman. His big brother is thrilled by the prospect of getting his little brother to join him in playing video games. I think this is a good thing.
I was brought into the band for my veteran wisdom and likelihood of mastering the drums, which I imagine would be pretty tricky for people (adults, at least) who’ve never messed around on a real drum kit with a real pedal. At least I’d like to think this is the case.
As we began our first warm-up session, my younger son couldn’t keep up with the lyrics of one of the songs. He’s in second grade and he’s not an advanced reader for his age. “You failed!” shouted my older son, over his guitar part. Our little guy threw his mic down on the couch and stormed off. I asked our guitarist why he had to use the term “failed” and tried to explain to him the hardships his brother faced 10 minutes into his ROCK BAND career. “I was just saying what it said on the screen,” he replied. It was cool. We went downstairs and convinced our singer to return to practice. We agreed we should switch instruments to see how it felt to be in each others’ shoes. I’d sing, to show our less-experienced bandmate how hard that job can be for even a veteran with better reading skills.
“Let’s make Daddy sing a song he hates!” my big boy said. Continue reading »