Winter, Johnnie and I made a wish list. Winter’s included a cell phone (written 14 times), Rock Band, kitten (written six times) and a PS3. Johnnie’s wish list was for a PS3, Rock Band, Grand Theft Auto 4 and new wheels for his skates. My wish list was for new clothes, paying off the Best Buy credit card, new roller skates and Rock Band. Because we all wanted Rock Band, we decided to spend our yet-to-be-received tax money on the video game.
(Sidenote: Johnnie somehow snuck in a PS3 and Grand Theft Auto while at Best Buy. It all happened so fast. But, I’m not complaining about the PS3. We can now watch movies in hi-def. Plus, we can download old-school games and play them with someone across the country. Oh technology, you make is so easy for me to live far away from my family!)
And since we charged these items to the Best Buy card, we didn’t actually pay anything. Yet. Although, this little stunt negates my wish-list entry to pay off the damn card. Let’s not get hung up on this unpleasantness and get to the real source of contentment: Rock Band.
This video game has taken over our lives. We are on a serious world tour and Johnnie has requested that I quit my job because it’s hurting the band. The three of us have bonded over our lack of musical talent. We practice together every day, never getting down on one another for a poor performance.
“I did really bad this time,” Johnnie said after playing guitar on “Blitzkrieg Bop.”
“No, babe, you did great. Look! You scored 86%. You rocked it hard,” I assured him.
“Ooh, so did you! 99%!” he said, congratulating me.
I must admit I have a talent for vocals. Well, karaoke vocals, anyway. And only with the songs I already know. I didn’t fair so well on “Here it Goes Again” by Ok Go and probably never will.
We constantly encourage each other and work together to earn new fans and “money.” Winter’s first crack at vocals almost dissuaded her from a second try, but with our you-did-greats she found the confidence to keep singing despite the fact that she thought her voice sounded bad.
Before I go on with the rah-rah-we’re-so-awesome, I should mention that housecleaning has fallen off the priority list. The dishes have piled up, there’s cat hair everywhere (maybe that’s why I’m sneezing all the time) and there’s apparently no time to throw dirty laundry in the hamper that’s just 12 inches from where the dirties lay on the floor.
Again with the unpleasantness — let’s get back on tour. Sorry, Ms. Editor, I must leave the office. I’ve got a fever, and the only cure is more cowbell.