Oh I sincerely miss those heavy metal bands
I used to go see on the landing in the summer
She fell in love with the drummer
She fell in love with the drummer
She fell in love – Wilco

GamerMom is busy. She doesn’t have a lot of time for games. She also has a low threshold for “not being good at things” and admits she expects to be good at things immediately. Since video games tend to be hard on purpose, she’s less interested. She thinks they’re fun but hasn’t learned the value of mastering the controls. What it feels like to react rather than think and extend your reach and perception into a simulation. But watching the kids and I and noodling with Wii Fit has changed her a bit. When I caught her spending extra time with a few of the “games” inside Wii Fit, specifically the one where you tilt balls into holes, I knew the time was right. Linda needed to learn how to drum.

“For those about to Rock!”

Rhythm games seem impossible at first. Playing music isn’t the same as becoming a human player piano. Teaching the mind to concentrate on the upcoming patterns, register them, and then send the information to your fingers at such a speed and in such a way as to disconnect brain from body. All the while suppressing the urge to think and concetrate on “doing.” Often called “muscle memory”, it’s the sublime state these games bring and require – it’s the point, easily as much as music appreciation is- and it’s why gamers get that glassy-eyed slack jawed thing that nongamers find so alarming.

When gaming, the mind processes while the body reacts. They are in concert and you’re no longer involved. It’s awesome. Maybe you’ve felt it when you drive? Film is like a roller coaster, but gaming is like being off the track and wrestling with your direction.  (If that didn’t lose you congratulations, it lost me. Sorry.)

Anyway, the above is what Linda meant when she burst out giggling trying to drum the pattern in the Rock Band drum tutorial.

“I can’t… sniff… hahahaa… heh… gkk… I can’t get… heh… the pattern!”

I just kept telling her to stop laughing, stop thinking, and do it. She started again:

“I … hahaha… can’t…”

But then she stopped. By Harmonix, she’s got it!

From there I took the mic and we played The Pretender’s “Brass in Pocket” four times in a row. Beating it twice, and one time I only had to rescue her once.  She’s got a long way to go but the kids are getting older, we’ve got the makings of a perfect band here. Dad can play anything, the kids can sing or play guitar, and Linda? 

My turn to fall in love with the drummer.

Tags: Misc