Guest blogger Karyn Bryant: A couple of weeks ago I fulfilled a lifelong fantasy: I joined a rock band and started sleeping with the drummer.
OK. I lied. Truth is, I got the game Rock Band this past Christmas, but like a real rock-n-roller, I think I have an addiction problem. I want to play all night, every night.
Let's imagine I've had a hell of a day with the kid: while a vodka tonic or two is a nice option, sometimes I just get on the mic and tear through the Beastie Boys' "So Watcha Want." I'm freakin' awesome on that song, and gratification of blowing away the crowd buoys my spirits like spirits usually do. Without the empty calories.
Besides being ridiculously fun, I also think of Rock Band as a couples therapy tool. If you start a band with your significant other, you'll have to work together to conquer the world, one crappy nightclub at a time. I've found that if they can score 99% while drumming "Eye Of The Tiger," (every guy's first-choice song) you might actually forget you were peeved at him as you get stupid with high-fives. And since we're being honest, shouldn't we admit that there could be more high-fiving going on in your house?
In the last few weeks I've come to another conclusion as well: Rock Band is not merely a game. It's the most ingenious and sneaky time-travel device ever. When you turn it on, at least two hours of your life will go missing instantly. As a mom, real life and real responsibilities beckon, so I don't get as much time on stage as I'd like. But when I rock the mic, I rock the mic right, baby!!
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