Some Things Just Shouldn't Be Blended

If you've followed ASWS for a while you'll know of my obsession with Guitar Hero, whether it's about rock laziness ("Rock On Or Get Out") or my over confidence with my GH World Tour drumming skills ("Guitar Hero Or Guitar Loser").

As a matter of fact, I'm so obsessed with the Guitar Hero music madness that this video below made my heart hurt a little.

Guitar Hero or Guitar Loser?

About a month ago, I couldn't help but run out and hunt down the new Guitar Hero World Tour for my Wii. If you're not aware, this new Guitar Hero comes complete with drums, a mic, and a guitar, allowing you to rock it, full band style like Rock Band introduced.

Also, from my previous post "Rock Out Or Get Out", you'll realize my obsession with Guitar Hero in the first place. I take my music very seriously, so when it comes to my music based video games, you don't even have to ask. But, as far as GH World Tour is concerned, I was insanely excited about getting the chance to rock the drums.

In the past couple of years I've acquired this desire to learn to play the drums. It never even crossed my mind while I was in a band for 4 years, but I was always intrigued by how intricate a skill playing a full drum kit really was. Back in the day, it was hard enough for me to control my fingers on the fret board of my guitar while I strummed and sang along. I still have that problem sometimes. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be doing so many things at one time, all while keeping the beat.

So, almost 3 years after the band broke up and a couple of years of wanting to learn the drums, I was getting my chance to be a drumming rock star with GH World Tour. I've read that playing on the most difficult level would be like the playing the song on a real kit, so I was pumped when I ripped open the box and started playing along.

I got a decent start, but easy was just too easy. It didn't feel like I was playing the drums at all. But then came medium. I started hitting multiple pads at the same time, adding in the bass drum. I could feel the rhythm, I could see the crowd in front of me as I slammed away to "Everlong" by Foo Fighters. At that moment, I couldn't wait to progress to the next difficulty because I knew I was on my way to becoming the next Neil Peart, right there in my living room.

But I didn't have a chance to get that far. It was 2 days ago when my dreams of becoming a master drummer by playing Guitar Hero were dashed. I stumbled across the video posted below on YouTube. It humbled me as quick as a double bass smack to the gut and knocked me from the clouds that my mind was swimming in. At that moment I became a Guitar Loser. I knew no matter how good I became on those Guitar Hero drums, nothing could replace the real deal.

So until I can go out and buy my nice shiny new 18 piece set, with a glorious midnight blue finish and my name printed on the bass head with flames surrounding the print, then spend 8 years perfecting my master stick work, I'll settle for rocking out in my living room and pretending that John Bonham is looking down at me from heaven, holding up a set of rock horns with his left hand.

Rock Out Or Get Out!

• Imagine yourself waiting in line along a busy street in the freezing January weather of a small Maine city. Posters advertising a rock show plaster the cold brick wall to your right: Foo Fighters, one night only!
  
  The snow is gently floating down amongst you and the crowd of anxious and die-hard fans. Jackets are few, hats and gloves mostly forgotten, the warmth of a packed arena floor only an excruciating memory of rock show past. People with significant others stand wrapped in each others arms, rubbing and consoling, keeping minds at ease with the anticipation of the opening doors. Loners blow in their hands and hop up and down in the impatient dance of frostbitten toes.
  
  Thoughts of death from the harsh Maine winter's breath start creeping into your mind only moments before the doors finally open, letting the warm indoor air sweep across the few lucky enough to be close to the doors. Hurriedly, frozen feet carry people across the threshold into the arena as you shake the icicles out of your hair and feel the twitch of life flow back into your nose. The 4 hour wait is over.
  
  You feel like the floor in front of the stage couldn't be any more packed with people. You lift your feet only to be held up by the shoulders of your fellow rockers. The three opening bands have come and gone and you've rocked through all three, bobbing your head and singing along where you could. Everyone's frozen bodies have not only recovered from the cold but are so hot that the sweat from yourself and all the exhausted fans around you soak your body and clothes. The heat that's emanating off the crowd creates a fine mist floating toward the ceiling creating a cloud of perspiration and spent screams. Impatience creeps in. The chant "Foo, Foo, Foo" echoes and deafens. The moment is coming, the lights go out, the time has come.
  
  A drum beat, steady and hard swallows you. The bass beating on your already tortured eardrums keeps punching you in the gut with each heavy beat. Then there is beam of light that streaks from the scaffolding above.
  
  Illuminated at the center of the stage is burgundy, swede couch. The cushions have seen better days, stains streak the right arm rest, tears criss cross the left cushion. But your attention is drawn to the center of the couch. Behind a boom stand with its microphone positioned downward is Dave Grohl: the icon, the living rock legend, the front man of Foo Fighters. He sits reclined with his axe in his lap and his head back. The memorable opening notes of "My Hero" come flowing out of his fingers. You stand motionless as the crowd around you is paralyzed with shock, bewilderment and outrage. Your rock star dreams are destroyed like skinny and overexcited kid in a mosh pit.
  
  You're probably thinking, "This wouldn't happen." You're right, it wouldn't.
  
  But this same thing is happening in living rooms all across the nation without the second thought that it deserves. This needs to be stopped. Its an affliction I call GHOLS. Short for Guitar Hero Obsessive Laziness Syndrome. You may notice your friend or loved one playing "Slow Ride" by Foghat while sitting on the couch, the floor, in a recliner, with their feet up, or completely lying down. It is a common misconception that these are acceptable methods of which to play Guitar Hero. In truth they are not and can lead to a very serious case of GHOLS. In some cases this condition could be seriously life threatening.
  
  You may wonder why I went through this whole story just to inform you of this condition. My point is if Dave Grohl wouldn't do it on stage you shouldn't be doing it in your living room while playing Guitar Hero. The motto in my living room is: Rock out or get out, stand up or step down! Common behaviors for a healthy Guitar Hero player in my home include: jumping on furniture, flashing of the horns, power stance, crazy eye, and head banging.
  
  There will be a day when the world can live without GHOLS but it all starts with recognizing the symptoms. I will never let a case of GHOLS afflict anyone I care for and neither should you. Remember, if Dave Grohl wouldn't do it then neither should you. Show the same courtesy your rock hero would show to you and keep it rockin'!
  
  Also see: Chronic Axe Neglect Disorder for Rock Band (CANDRB)