'Bass Ackwards and Belly Up' and 'Footfree and Fancyloose' tell the story of four best friends who commit the ultimate suburban sin: putting off college to pursue their dreams.
Publisher's Weekly said: "Full of romance and adventure, laughter and tears, the story is a reminder that veering from the straight and narrow road doesn't always lead to a dead end."
Yes, it's true that my drumming career is nascent and largely confined to the five plastic drums that came with my Rock Band game.
(Okay, totally confined.)
But I'm good-- perhaps even talented-- and improving daily.
I have no doubt that if Rock Band came with two foot pedals, I would be an expert drummer in... oh, a month, or so, depending on my work schedule. And, also, I'm going out of town, which will have a serious negative impact on my practice time.
So more like two months. And then I will be the next Ringo Starr.
I say Ringo Starr over Stewart Copeland, my favorite drummer of all time, because, all jesting aside, my Rock Band game has had a side effect beyond the shin splint in my pedal leg.
Thanks to Rock Band, I am now obsessed with The Beatles.
To understand my surprise at this development, some rather embarrassing context is required.
Context item #1: For me, until a month ago, "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," was mostly a movie starring the Bee Gees.
Context item #2: Paul McCartney was that guy who did occasional duets with Michael Jackson, and had that nice, vegetarian wife who died, and the daughter who's a designer, and who married that awful woman and we all felt sorry for him.
Context item #3: John Lennon was the creative force behind the album "Double Fantasy," which came out when I was nine, and had the most lovely, tender songs. (Before you judge me, I'm thinking of "Woman," "Beautiful Boy," and "Just Like Starting Over." I am NOT thinking of "Kiss Kiss Kiss," thank you very much.)
And now, suddenly, "Dear Prudence" (medium difficulty, 99%, 218 note streak) is cycling through my head when I wake up in the morning. "I Me Mine" (hard, 89%, 74 note streak) lulls me to sleep.
I've always known I loved songs like "Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds," (medium, 99%, 259 note streak) and "Paperback Writer," (medium, 99%, 306 note streak), but without Rock Band, I would never have discovered my love for "If I Needed Someone," (hard, 96%, 126 note streak) or my affinity for the slow grooves of "I Want You," (medium, 97%, 328 note streak) and "Don't Let Me Down" (medium, 99%, 211 note streak).
If not for Rock Band, I would certainly not know that before 1967, The Beatles didn't hold much appeal for me-- but from 1967 on (pretty much when they were falling apart, I understand from Wikipedia) I LOVE what they had goin' on.
The Beatles were, to quote The Beatles, "getting better all the time" (hard, 89%, 83 note streak). And then they were gone. If I had a guitar, I'm quite sure it would gently weep (hard, 93%, 78 notes streak). (Oh, wait. I do have a guitar. Lemme check... Yep. Gently weeping.)
But now there's Band Hero. And I say, here comes the sun (hard, 86%, 70 note streak).
Because, with Band Hero, I am the egg man. I am the egg man.
L.A. 2009. I’m stuck in traffic on the 101 freeway, listening to Isabella Rosselini on NPR. Isabella, for some reason, mentions that starfish are one of those rare species that can reproduce asexually, and I realize that if I could do that, I wouldn't have to worry about finding a boyfriend/husband. I wouldn’t have to internet date! I wouldn't have to figure out if I want to/can/should have a baby/adopt a baby/child on my own. I wouldn't have to stress about things like FSH levels, or weigh my feelings on in vitro versus adoption.
I would just have a baby. Thus began my starfish envy.