What Rock Band doesn't tell you when forming a band

When it rains practically every day, your funds are dried up worse then the Sahara Desert, and you really don’t want to venture out in public with 4 children; three of which are suffering from cabin fever; ya do the next best thing! I pulled out the one video game that doesn't bring my kids to tears and whines about being sniped from behind; Rock Band. We decided to have a jam session. Unfortunately our band turned into like many bands with too many Chiefs and not enough Indians. The older ones spent most of the time bickering.

It started with our bands’ name; ‘Tater wanted to show her love for Percy Jackson while Lil t’ wanted to profess his love for dogs. I finally became a tyrant and named our band “My Headaches”; the whining and complaining continued till I started to shut the game down. The next lovely argument was creating our player’s looks. Really? Do we HAVE to have an argument over whether or not one person has hot pink hair vs the other one not able to decide if they wanted to be punk or rock? Finally “My Headaches” have dressed themselves, taken in enough water, cleared the space around them ready to play. And another tiff erupted over which song was going to be our opening song. The choice was between Weezer’s “Say it aint so” and Nirvana “In Bloom”. Broke that tiff up when it looked like a drum stick was about to go flying through the air.

Once that was taken care of we played our sets only to be sabotaged by to short grumpy anti rock music patrons. The Princess kept unplugging my microphone. Some may say she was hinting to my degree of singing. It has been rumored that I can make anyone deaf when I break out in song. Let’s put it this way, my mom who has to wear hearing aids and will take them out anytime I break out into song. If I want to talk to her she makes me promise not to keep singing. As we battled The Princess from pulling the cords out of the Xbox 360, Monkey spent the time trying to pry the drum sticks out of Lil t’s hands using kung fu moves learned by a drunken spider monkey.

Our band played for 5 straight hours though and didn’t make it very far. We are terrible. I have absolutely no eye/hand coordination. It pains me trying to use both hands in different ways while my brain is trying to sort out which color I need to push. I hate to admit it but it’s actually pretty funny when I get into concentration mode, tongue stuck out, and head cocked to the side; wait I take it back, it’s not funny it’s painful to watch. Painful.