green grass and high tides forever (and ever and ever and ever and

Ryan goes back to school in just under 2 weeks, and I've been bugging him to play the Endless Setlist with me on Rock Band before he leaves.

If you're unfamiliar with Rock Band's multiplayer thing, the Endless Setlist is the last thing you unlock in the game when you're playing as a band. It is exactly what it sounds like: a concert featuring all 58 songs that come with the game. It takes about six hours to play if you don't take any extended breaks.

Today, Ryan and I tackled it on expert. He played guitar, and I played bass. It was awesome. We got five stars on pretty much everything for the first 20 or so songs, including three gold stars. I got the authentic strummer thing and 99% on about half of them.

We were seriously having a good time, striking the rock pose, putting our backs together while we jammed through epic songs, bonding through the power of rock.

Then, with five songs left to go, we got to Green Grass and High Tides.

For those of you unfamiliar with Rock Band, this is a fantastic southern rock song by the Outlaws. It's also one of the hardest in the game, and the longest, weighing in at around 10 minutes. It's a song that you don't play as much as survive, and it does its best to really beat you down. If a song could kick you in the junk, this would be it. If this song were a poker game, it would be Razz.

So, after already playing for 5 hours, (and not exactly conserving our energy) we started to play this rock epic, knowing it would be the greatest challenge we'd faced yet.

Our first time through, we failed at 84%. It was entirely my fault for holding my guitar too high and deploying our emergency overdrive when we didn't need it.

"Sorry about that," I said as we lost 360,000 fans. "I blame my guitar."

Ryan looked at me.

"Okay, I blame myself."

Ryan laughed and said it was no big deal. He was confident we'd get it on the next try, and when we started the song, I could see why. He was in the zone, nailing 97% of the first solo. I wanted to holler about how awesome he was, but I felt like it would have been the same as talking to my pitcher in the middle of a no-hitter, so I stayed quiet and did my best not to screw things up.

I screwed things up, and we failed the song at 96%. We lost another 360,000 fans, almost wiping out the million we'd picked up when we did the Southern Rock Marathon last week. Compared to the nearly 5 and a half hours we'd spent playing, that 18 minutes wasn't that long, but it sure felt demoralizing, especially because it was, again, entirely my fault we'd failed. See, there's this bass phrase that's repeated over and over and over, and if you're just a tiny bit off (like I was) you're screwed, and . . . well, you get the point.

I dropped my hands to my side and let the guitar hand around my neck. My arms were tired, my legs hurt, and my vision was getting blurry.

"I think I've identified the weak link in our band, and it's me," I said. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Ryan said, "but I think I want to take a break."

"Good idea," I said. "Let's pause this, go out for something to eat, and come back later."

Ryan walked into his room and turned on his shower. I unplugged my guitar so we didn't have to worry about our dogs knocking it down and starting the game again while we were gone.

In my memory, the next few moments happen in slow motion:

• I pick up Ryan's guitar, the wireless PS2 guitar from GHIII.
• I hold down the button to get the control screen.
• The dashboard comes up, and it gives me the option to cancel, turn off the controller, or turn off the system.
• I click the strum bar to select "turn off the controller."
• I set the guitar on the ground -- carefully -- and reach up to click the green fret button.
• I hear the Xbox beep.
• I push the button.
• I realize that the beep was the strum bar clicking one more time when I set the guitar down, selecting "Shutdown the System."
• The system shuts down, taking all of our progress with it.
• Time resumes to normal. For the next 120 seconds, I use every curse word I know, until my throat is raw. It takes everything I have not to grab the guitar and get all Pete Townshend on it.

Ryan came out of his room.

"What happened?" He said.

I told him.

What happened next was astonishing to me: Ryan didn't freak out. He didn't get upset. Instead, he told me, "Calm down, Wil. It's just a game. We can do it again."

I was still really upset. It was an accident, yes, but it was my fault. In my head, I kept replaying all the different ways I could have powered down his guitar that were more careful. I really felt like an asshole, because I screwed up twice and caused us to fail both times. I felt like an asshole, because I screwed up and lost all the progress we'd made. Mostly, though, I felt like an asshole because I really wanted to accomplish this feat with my son. I really wanted to have that memory.

What I got, though, was better than what I'd hoped for. I got to see Ryan exhibit one of the key values I'd raised him with: he kept everything in perspective, and found all the good things in the experience, like the gold stars we scored, the fun we had playing all the other songs, and the time we spent together. He reminded me that it's not about winning, it's about playing the game.

If you've read my blog for any amount of time, I'm sure you can appreciate how great it felt to hear my words and my values come out of my son's mouth.

I don't write about my boys very often these days. Their friends read my blog, and they sometimes read my blog. They're not little kids any more and I feel like it's not cool to talk about everything we do together with the Internet . . .

. . . but in this case, I'm making an exception.

Comments

[aeditor]

I am always in awe of how cool my kid is. Thankfully, they do learn from our mistakes, when we stand back and let them.

[Edkaye]

Ouch! Sorry to hear about the gaming mishap, but I am pleased for you that your son showed such restraint. Like you said, it is about playing the game, and you guys sound like you had a great time together :)

I have been wanting Rockband for the longest time, but I have a Wii and the Wii version is missing many features. It's almost enough to make me buy an XBox :)

[Barbara Eyre]

Wil,

Hubby and I are still learning that lesson (I'm 35 and he's 45) ... we both have short tempers when things go rough like that. I think we're both supposed to learn patience LOL.

I wish I could have kids in order to instill those values. Those values are so rare these days in the younger generation. Oh gawd, am old enough to say "younger generation"! Ruh Roh!

Anyways, so sorry about the game situation. At least it is something that can be started again and worked on during school vacations and such.

HUGS!

[worldofhiglet]

I really enjoyed your Mahalo Daily interview. After what you said there about not blogging about your kids so much these days, I'm really glad you still decided to make the exception and write this.

You are spot on when you said that you got much more than you had hoped for and it's great that one of you could keep perspective. It seems you managed to create an even better memory than you had hoped for.

And there's still time to try again another day!

[solace]

Though it hurts now, later it will be something to laugh at. "Remember that time we played for 5 hours, almost finished the endless setlist and then I accidentally turned off the xbox??" or "That's not as bad as that time I turned off the xbox..."

Still a great memory...

I'm still bugging my hubby about the "7th Guest" save game he erased not once but after almost finishing again, twice. Good times. ;)

[Americanuck]

Isn't it great when they act more grown up than you do? The time that you spend with your Kids is golden even if it is messing up on Rock Band. ;)

[Amy Sisson]

I really enjoyed this entry. ;-)

Careful, though.... on PostSecrets (do you know it?), I read a postcard that said, "I said my carpal tunnel surgery was because of work. But really, it was from Guitar Hero."

On an unrelated note, I would have given a lot to see the Trek without Blueprints panel at ComicCon. Dayton, Dimore, Mack and you... that's just scary!

[bphuettner]

This post brings tears to my eyes for a bunch of reasons. First, I have been reading you long enough to understand what this kind of moment means to you, and I'm grateful that you're willing to share it with the rest of us. Your ability to make a connection with your kids (and write about it so honestly) is absolutely inspirational.

Secondly, I'm working through a similar issue myself, with my 18-year-old daughter who moved out of the house this past Tuesday. It's still new and raw - and you as a parent probably know what I mean - and the idea that things can even temporarily return to what I like to pretend is "normal" comforts me.

Finally, though I'm not much of a "gamer" in any sense, I have recently begun connecting with my 16-year-old son over things related to Comic-Con. And the reason I attended that event in the first place was to see your panel!

So for all of these reasons, and probably many more, I want to thank you , Wil, for sharing your experiences with us, and for serving as an inspiration to me in so many ways.

[Stepto]

I dont have kids. I have dogs and cats. I have not had kids for a lot of reasons, too many to go into right here.

But This is probably the first post I have ever read that made me want to have kids.

I'm not going to, I mean my reasons for not breeding are both personal and sacrificial in a way. But this post, I grokked it. Fully and deeply, how the point of having children, or adopting them, or accepting responsibility for them even if they are not your own, is that moment when one can feel the fact that the world will go on without out us, and be ok.

I'm a huge Rock Band fanatic and video game fanatic and I identify the effort to achieve something in a game and to get so far and slip it up and it be ok because hey, its both just a game, as well as the best thing ever, well.

That's what it is all about.

Jesus thanks Wil for posting this.

S.

[oregonchick]

Wil, thank you for sharing this with us.

Although I'm not a parent myself, I assume that sometimes it's hard to tell how well you're really doing as a dad. This is one of those times where you get a chance to bask in the kind of gold stars that let you know that yes, you've done a good job by your sons.

[mirkrim]

Dang, that sux. But props to Ryan for keeping it real.

[Jules 'n' Glen]

You have raised some incredible boys and seeing your teaching come through in their daily lives must be true joy. I'm sure it will be hard to send Ryan back to school in 2 weeks - the summers always seem so much shorter now that we're adults.

[MaW]

I sympathise greatly, but my first thought on reading this entry is not 'oh Wil you mucked up' or 'oh Wil that's such a horrible thing to do by accident'.

It was 'oh Harmonix how can you be so cruel as to implement a game mode that requires over five hours of continuous gameplay before any progress can be saved'.

Seriously, how many people will ever be able to finish that? How many people have a group of Rock Band players who will get together for that long and play continuously, with only pause-induced pizza breaks?

Haven't they heard of the revolutionary concept of 'saving the game'??

[Milas]

Wil,

I've been reading your blog for a long time. It's some of my favorite reading. You've had some influence on my interests and on my own writing. ("Don't be afraid to suck" is the best advice I've heard in a long time.)

I've never left you a comment before. Maybe I'm a bit shy, or I didn't feel I had anything important to say.

But when I read this post and my eyes started leaking a bit, well heck, I had to introduce myself and tell you how much I enjoy your writing. This is a great story. Thanks for sharing it.

Milas

[Bog]

Oh man, do I know that feeling. The ringing eternal second where one's stomach departs for points south, vision wrapped in a crystalline tunnel around the moment of Epic Fail, and just the word "no" hoving in tiny grey letters three inches behind the bridge of your nose.

Then the swearing.

It's extremely cool that Ryan was so sane about it.

[Lord_Moon]

Kids are amazing, aren't they? My nieces and nephews surprise me all the time.

"Green Grass and High Tides Forever" great epic song I greatly enjoy, yet deadly in the hands of gamers. :D

[joshua m. neff]

I've been reading your blog for a while now, Wil, and your posts about Nolan and/or Ryan--and your relationship with them--are always some of my favorites. I don't know exactly when it happened, but I've noticed that you refer to them as your stepsons less and just call them your sons more and more. That really resonates with me and touches my heart.

I'm a stepdad, too. I met my stepdaughter when she was 5. She's 11 now and she's been calling me "Daddy" for most of the time she's known me. Her biological father is not in the picture (in fact, they've never met), and while we're all open about the fact that she's not biologically mine, there's no question that I am her father. I'm so incredibly proud of her, and so lucky to have her as a daughter. Everytime I read about how close you are to your boys, what a great relationship you have with them, and everytime you call them your sons, not stepsons, I feel like I really know where you're coming from and how you feel.

So, good for you for being such a great father to them! How lucky you are to have this time with them! And thank you for writing about it and sharing it with all of us.

[uncle joe mccarthy]

wil

can you adopt me?

5 hours gaming with your son?

you are the best

[jkriegshauser]

Wow, Wil, that's really a testament to your abilities as a parent :)

I had to do the endless setlist twice on expert too. My friend accidentally forgot to sign in and didn't get the achievement. Much to my wife's chagrin we ended up doing the whole 5-hour set again a few days later.

My son is currently five and loves to kick my butt at all manner of Wii games. I can't wait until he's old enough to jam with me on the likes of Rock Band.

[Grizwald]

Ryan's Words of Wisdom:

"It's just a game. We can do it again."

*applause*

[sciencegeek]

I really enjoyed this entry because I do a reasonable amount of the running around, tearing my hair out and swearing and various inanimate objects (and a few animate ones too). The spectrophotometer software comes to mind - it doesn't save data in a reasonable way and then doesn't ask if you want to save before someone shuts it down. Perhaps I can shorten the time devoted to glaring at it and telling it exactly what I think of its mother.

(okay, that was perhaps a bit too geek even for this blog.)

The other reason for delurking is to wish you a happy birthday tomorrow. I can remember as a kid seeing your name in the "celebrities born today" thing in the newspaper on my birthday and not really knowing who you were other than as an actor. I've enjoyed this blog - and a book or two - for a few years now and I'm glad to share the same birthday with a hoopy frood who really knows where his towel is. So have a great birthday.

[justme]

"I really wanted to have that memory."

Those words are such a bittersweet reminder of how we, as parents, set ourselves up for disappointment. We plan something in our heads and have all these expectations for the memories we'll take away. And then we introduce the wild variable of reality.

You are fortune. The memory you got sounds so much better than the one you thought you wanted.

Thanks for sharing.

[logicalnoise]

Yeah, I have no one to attempt endless setlist with....but hey at leats you werne't attempting it with rock band 2(harmonix has stated that it takes around 10 hours with no breaks). and hey at least you weren't on drums.

[The Other Laura]

This is a wonderful story and it's helped me understand something about my own son's gaming. He's only seven, but he's good and gets very emotionally involved with what he's playing.

I'm going to share this post with him (minus the assholes which would just make him laugh hysterically).

Thanks, Wil.

[jbay]

you know you've been programming too much when an unclosed "(" in a blog post title makes you twitch.