Tonight I played with a Wii. "Rockstar" to be exact.
For more than 2 minutes.
Because that's really all the exposure I've ever had to video games of any extent.
Sure, when I was a kid Atari was all the rage. Yes, I'm giving away my age, but oh well. I'm a "Rockstar" now. It doesn't matter.
And I remember watching other kids play Pac Man for what seemed like hours at the arcade of "Big B's Pizza" - but I wasn't the one holding the joystick.
I have to admit, I could never figure out the draw to it. Why do kids beg for these games for Christmas? Why do children - and adults for that matter - become glued to their TV screens like zombies just so they can jump over a cartoon mountain or eat a cherry?
But I think I might get it now. It's all about the score.
At least it was for me.
"Rockstar" hurled me back to exam day in 11th grade. Would I get 100 percent? 98? Please tell me it is above 93!!
And so I bang on those drums and strum that guitar like I've missed my calling. And though I end with a respectable 80 percent, or even a 93 percent...I am not satisfied.
I need to do it again. I must beat my score.
I fared better on the vocals, but that's just because I can follow a line better than a colored bar, apparently. It clearly has nothing do with actual vocal ability.
But I scored a 99 percent on vocals.
Well, hey! I'm nearly a perfect rockstar! Or so the silly game designers would like me to believe.
Because they know I will go for that perfect score. Over. And over. And over.
It is hypnotic, fun and incredibly ridiculous all at the same time.
Unfortunately - or fortunately probably - the TV actually blew a fuse as my friends and I neared the end of one of our songs. Oops. It was probably a sign. At least it flashed me back to reality in short order.
And though I wasn't crushed that I couldn't get to my guitar solo, I was devastated to not get to see my score.
Some video games may bring out our competitive nature, but "Rockstar" brings out the perfectionist in us.
And, much like my guitar playing...
it ain't pretty.