Photo Credit: AP
I'm so proud, as any mother of a fake instrument prodigy should be. Yes, other children are in awe of my son's ability. When his friends are eking out a tune note by note on the Beginner level, my son is conquering power chords on Expert. I’m sure this translates into some practical talent, though I haven’t quite figured out what that is yet. Hand-eye coordination? Higher math? Algorithms?
Regardless of the implications, he elicits great joy from showcasing his current gift. He performs for unsuspecting adults that come by for play dates, cocktails or both. Why shouldn’t he show off? He's good. After a month of voice lessons, my parents touted me as the next Annie. To prove it, they had me sing "The Sun Will Come out Tomorrow" countless times for company, and I couldn’t hit half the notes.
I look at my little genius, flawlessly hitting all the notes to "Slow Ride and Paint it Black" and I wonder, “Is it better to be average at an instrument your parents force you to study or a phenom at an instrument that's a replica of the real thing?”
His Guitar Hero skills may not get him into Carnegie Hall, but he's gained confidence that he couldn't of obtained from being tenth on the clarinet. Who knows, one day there may be a market for superstars of the music-gaming world. I can see him in 2015, center stage at CBGB’s in a "Battle of the Bogus Bands," rocking out on his plastic Fender Strat. And I will be the proud mom screaming from the crowd, "That's my boy!"