I’m usually too busy for video games, but I always find time to pretend to play them and then write about my pretend gaming adventures. Does spending three hours a day on online poker, chess, and bridge count? I’m not sure, but recently, I decided to dive into the world of virtual music games, specifically to poke fun at the popular Guitar Hero and Rock Band franchises. I was going to jokingly claim to be a master of these games, even though my actual guitar skills are non-existent – a true guitar zero. I even have a friend who became so obsessed with these games and the whole virtual rockstar persona that he removed all his bathroom sinks and now yells “I can’t hear you!” whenever you ask him a question.
I started testing my newly crafted jokes about my supposed Guitar Hero expertise and obsession on my friends and then on my newsletter subscribers. The response was overwhelming! People loved the idea of virtual rockstar games and were happy to see me, supposedly, joining the fun. The funny thing was, everyone completely missed my sarcasm and believed my made-up stories about being a Guitar Hero pro. Suddenly, I had a problem. Everyone I met started asking me about game modes, song lists, and all sorts of Guitar Hero details that I knew absolutely nothing about.
Then, my friends took things to the next level. They dragged me to a basement and unveiled the full Rock Band setup: a 5-button guitar, a 5-button bass guitar, a 5-button drum kit, and a microphone. “We’re all here – the band is complete!” they announced, envisioning a wild night of virtual rock stardom with yours truly as the guitar hero.
And so, in just one evening, I went from being a complete Guitar Zero to a Guitar Hero – at least on “Easy Mode.” I must admit, on the easiest setting, the game is surprisingly simple. But, and this is where my newfound respect comes in, the more advanced modes are utterly impossible for me. I now have a genuine appreciation for those who can actually master the coordination required to play those 5-button controllers and create virtual renditions of rock anthems. Suddenly, yelling “I can’t hear you, London!” after a successful virtual performance seemed a little less absurd.
