My Name is Scott. I am a Guitar Hero Addict

I trembled with anticipation as I sat out in front of the Mountain View Best Buy. my chair was planted directly next to the door, and I made sure that nobody was going to get there in front of me. As I sat with my coffee in front of the tremendous blue building, people began to line up behind me. With shifting looks and a slight twitch in my eye, I kept a wrench in my pocket in case someone tried to rob me.

For two hours I sat in front of Best Buy to get my copy of Guitar Hero III for Wii, and as the sun beat down on me, the employees of the store milled about setting up displays and stations for the awaiting gamers. They unlocked the doors, and I eagerly rushed through the sliding doors, grabbed a long box and checked out of the store.

I got home and ripped open the box, popped the game disc into my television and warmed up the frets with my fingers as I waited to start the game. I spent hours picking a character, and finally decided on the new little Japanese girl that had the appearance of a purple and green Pokémon.

I began my journey to become a rock legend. I watched the little animated shorts illustrating my growth with anticipation as I reached venues. Moving from a backyard house party to a bar to a full blown concert in Japan, I played the songs unceasingly. My hands cramped as the little circles (the “notes”) came flying down the screen at increasing speeds. All that went through my head was a series of colors (specifically green, red, yellow, blue and orange).

Finally I came to my first battle against Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine. We split the screen and took turns playing solos. Instead of star power notes, there were battle gems that game me power against-ups, such as lefty-flip (impossible), double notes (all notes are double, also impossible) and amp overload (flashing notes, nearly impossible). As I dealt him his death blow, I threw down my guitar and performed a Rocky Balboa victory circle around my family room.

By the time I had finished each song and moved past each boss including Slash of the Velvet Revolvers and Lou (the devil), my hand was stuck in the position of pressing down the buttons. Although I struggled to straighten it out, my pinky was stuck in a bent position, and my eyes were so glazed over that when I blinked, I kept seeing the different notes of “One” by Metallica and “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns and Roses.

I had been in front of my television for 13 hours straight; I was a rock legend, and I felt like smashing my small, plastic guitar on the ground and lighting it on fire like a real rock star.

I slept with songs of “The Who” and “Santana” running through my head, and when I got home from school, I had to sneak 20 minutes of hard rocking out to get my fix. I have now come to the conclusion that Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock is a sort of drug that may result in hand cramps, waking up sweating singing Tenacious D, urges to engage “Star Power” when you are failing a test and long periods spent in front of the television having a great time.