My Band's Name is Free Pie

I've never been much of a gamer. I played pong a couple times in the 70's. I'm not sure if I ever played a full game of Ms. Pac Man. I played Time Crisis a couple times with Husband at an arcade about seven years ago. And I've enjoyed the Wii Tennis with the family on occasion. That's fun. Absolutely never in my forty years have I ever played a video game by myself, just to play.

Uh, until now.

Santa brought Guitar Hero 3 Friday night, the night before Maya left. We haven't stop playing since. Maybe everyone at one point in their life becomes obsessed with a game, like how one reality show might hooks us in. Not only am I addicted, but somehow I'm the best player in our house, which is astounding. Why can I rip off riffs like a seasoned gamer? I'm a fake guitar natural.

This game is a fantastic education in great rock, by the way, which includes blues, punk and metal. Most all of the songs on the game are recordings by the original artists. Even if I don't know 80% of the songs, I'm sure they are all legendary with cult followings despite my ignorance. I'll say, "Wow, that song is so great. Who is that?" It will be Sunshine of my Love by Cream. Or My Name is Jonahs by Weezer. Or Lay Down by Priestess. What do I know? Basically nothing about this huge chunk of music. Growing up, I chose to listen to obscure African and Caribbean music. And more punk than I remember, apparently. Husband will say, "Why do you know the words to the Dead Kennedy songs?" I'll say, "Why do you know the words to the Poison songs?" The kids now hum the melody to Santana's Black Magic Woman and sing the words to Barracuda by Heart. The gamer industry is inadvertently keeping good rock alive for future generations.

I told my husband that the other irresistible appeal to Guitar Hero is that this is closest I'll ever come to being a proficient musician. It's the closest I'll ever come to feeling what it's like to make great music. I knew I was toast when I was swinging the axe and kicking my feet on explosive chords. And not to be funny either; just 'cause I was feeling it. It must be a sad sight. I don't care!

For all the times I've sneered when Husband was obsessed with Rollercoaster Tycoon, I'm sorry. When I pouted because I was a Grand Theft Auto widow for months, I'm sorry. A characteristic I greatly admire about Husband is that he makes no apologies for things like this. My sneering or pouting does not affect him. He'd say, "I just want to chill and be obsessed with this right now." It's a reasonable request really. And I'm gonna tell him the same. Papi, I'm gonna be a GH star for a minute.

I'm ready to rock -- with this maniacle look on my face:

Husband has the fever too.

Mina may very well soon pass us all up, with her nappy head.