 |
| Image credit: Photo by Alejandro Castro on Flickr Licensed under Creative Commons |
It was true love, the moment I saw it. I was bathed in light and heard angels singing (no, really, that wasn't just the glow for the screen and the background music for the ad). There it was: The Beatles Rock Band, a video game that lets you be John, Paul, George and Ringo as you sing and play instrument shaped controllers in time with the music. Breathtaking. Magic.
I saw that game and I thought about the stash of money that I keep, just in case. It's like the few bucks I always try to keep in the back of my purse, just in case I get mugged, only it's in my underwear drawer, in case my world gets mugged. I thought about what an exceptionally bad time it would be to splurge with the economy still weak and my husband's job (our major source of income) on shaky ground. I thought about the huge plastic controllers that will probably end up in a landfill someday and about how I was going to make four families that much richer when so many people have so little. And I then thought, "Whatever. It's the Beatles! In a totally fun video game! They're bigger than Jesus! And all those homeless people and the environment needs is love anyway. Plus, digitally animated Paul McCartney is still so dreamy. How can I not do it?"
So, I did. I took my stash and spent it, and I stroked my plastic replica of Paul's bass and Ringo's drums lovingly as I removed them from the packaging and set them up with hands trembling with excitement. I popped the disk into our Wii and heard it whir to life, and sat entranced, with goosebumps prickling on my arms as I watched the intro animation. And oh, it was every bit as good as I thought it would be.
I try to get the kids to let me play at every opportunity. "Come on, kids! Let's play a video game. Please please please please please!" My daughter Janie doesn't actually like to play -- the instruments are a little too big for her six year old body and the rhythms of the game require a little more dexterity and coordination than she has yet -- but she likes to watch and sing along. A few days ago, I got her brother on the bus and said, "How about if I play some Beatles Rock Band while you finish your breakfast." We had about five minutes before I had to get her out the door for school too, but I figured this was enough for one song.
So, I sang one of her favorites: "Yellow Submarine." When that was over, she said, "Yay! Do 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,' Mama!" Well, who am I to resist an encore? So I did "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." Then Mark came downstairs and said, "Oo, Beatles Rock Band! Do 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds!'" "Well," I said, "I did just do that one, buuut... if you insist!" So I did "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" again. Eventually, I paused and when I did, I looked at the clock. Uh oh. Janie's school started three minutes ago, and because I (inconveniently) lack the ability to travel at the speed of light or reverse time, we were so going to be late.
I thought about telling the truth to the staff at the school, "I got caught up in playing Beatles Rock Band." Maybe they'd understand. It's the Beatles! I couldn't help it! So I gauged the secretary as I walked Janie to the office. She refused to look at me for several minutes: a bad sign. Eventually, she heaved a huge sigh, got up from her desk and walked over to me, glaring. "Reason for lateness?" she snapped. "Um, I..." I chickened out. "I lost track of time." She checked the box for "unexcused" and wrote "mother" on the line for reason.
With Janie safely in school, I headed home giggling at the lesson I'd instilled: "Your education and moral development are important, young lady, but what's more important is rock music and video games." I told this story to a friend who said, "No, don't you see? You taught her that special time with her mama is most important." Ok, that's another way to look at it. But it's not as funny.
Intro video:
7 comments: