Special guest appearance for Rock Band 2 tie-in gig. Orpheum Theatre. Los Angeles.

Initially uninterested. Feet hurt after standing at E3 showroom pavilion for seven hours straight. Also played DDR. All three similar, very similar versions. Became more uninterested as day went by. Went anyway.

7:20pm. A bit late. But no worries. Special guests appear at 9:00pm. Play Rock Band 2 in the meantime.

Go upstairs. See Alex Navarro next to Rock Band 2 stages. Lots of plasmas. The center plasma was framed. Wanted to shred it with my telekinetic fret-skills. (This is my journal entry, shut up.)

Watch Alex tear up drums. Tear up vocals, guitar, and drums myself. See Alex get giddier as 9:00 approaches. Okay, made that up. Actually see Alex keep his cool, but know his soul is getting giddier. Ask him who the special guest is. See Alex understand my emphasis of the word who. Watch him kinda, sorta, not really, but yes confirm.

Find my seat in the auditorium. 400-seat max or so. Find Blake Morse, fellow GameRevolution editor, in side aisle seats about six rows back from the stage. Find that seat is being saved. Find myself not caring. Find myself in argument three minutes later. Find myself moving aside. And then moving back again, because person found another seat. Mega-douche.

Mention to Blake, a bass player for Apple Pie Hopes - local Berkeley/San Francisco group - that the rumor is that it's "The Who". Hear him say that he's not going to believe it until they appear.

They appear. Blake blows his lid off and starts using heartfelt to-be-symbol-covered words.

Ridiculous standing ovation for the next two hours. (We weren't fooled again.)

Highlights: Roger Daltrey has still got the pipes and mic tricks. Pete Townshend breaks guitar string. Jests that the Guitar Hero: Aerosmith bundle comes with Steven Tyler's underwear. Crowd roars.

Back in hotel after three hours. Feet hurt like mad. Stood the entire time. But would stand even longer.

Come on, it's The #%*ing Who.

During my trek to the EA event at the Supper Club, I happened to pass by a building marked by its clear glass windows and sturdy green frame. Seeing a statue of the CNet logo, I knew where I was. At first, I didn't know how to react - with glee, respect, or an ordinary sense of acceptance - but one thing was sure. An arcade with Dance Dance Revolution Extreme and a pinball machine was blinking its happy lights on what have been the third or fourth floor. Alas, I'm a sucker for things that make pretty sounds.

And so my curiosity took the better of me. I opened the large glass doors (the same doors that Alex went through in the Big Rigs review), and well, I couldn't go very far. Two receptionists were at the desk, which marked where employees and wandering guests like me could go. Beyond the reception desk were two modern-looking gray staircases, held together by metal plates, metal railings, and metal wire. Very corporate, but also very cool.

There, I stood aimlessly - the kind of standing where you feel like you're doing nothing. I couldn't stop but wonder: Is this a vision of the future? Is this a dream that I desire, the dream to work here, to dedicate my life? Where else does the path of being a small-time editor lead? Is this place that greets me with metal and glass, a place where I can call home for at least a fleeting moment of my life? Or are these thoughts simply the wish of my inner child, against the truth that even if I were to become an editor here that life would just be harder?

So carelessly, I step back and turn toward the doors. Perhaps the receptionists wondered who that person was, that person who simply came and went. But I'm sure I wasn't the only one. Many others have passed through those doors to see a glimpse of a possible future. And so I turned away and walked up Second Street, smiling at what the future may hold.

...I'm still in Lost Odyssey... it's been two weeks now... at least I think so... I forget.

To all current and future pricks who continue to select "Player Match" in Rock Band:

- Do not disconnect just because you're doing poorly and especially if the song is a minute away from ending. You don't like death drains, and neither do your bandmates. Be warned: Rock Band III will have a 'SLAY' button.

- Do not play on a difficulty you can't handle. Just because you have two more chances to fail while in a band, it doesn't mean your bandmates want you to take that for granted. The last thing I want to do is save your sorry ass when you fail once, twice... and then game over. Unless you're in a band that is playing on Expert difficulty and is anal about earning golden stars, there's no crime in playing at a level you're comfortable with. (Now, if you're failing on Easy, then why are you playing online in the first place? Do you really want to be kicked? Are you a bottom?)

- Do not hold the left or right trigger button down while singing unless the other bandmates are (obviously not) okay with hearing you blurt your American Idol-reject voice in Dolby Surround Sound. Even if you sing like Barbara Streisand (well, then please don't), know that there's usually lag online, so whatever you scream at one beat will actually be heard by your bandmates some beats later. Not your fault, of course, but why put your bandmates off-rhythm unintentionally? You've got the mic. Be nice. Ask first.

- Do not be a guitar hog. Be fair. Alternate between guitar and bass with the other guitarist. We all know that the bass is simply the poor man's guitar in Rock Band. No x6 multiplier will ever compensate for a lack of solos and chords and fame and hot fans and exclusive suites and wet... I'm getting ahead of myself. But that's even more reason not to stick the bass onto somebody else unless that person is clearly a bassist or wants to give the other (probably more skilled) guitarist, well, guitar.

- Do not intentionally lower your life meter before the song begins. There's nothing wrong with widdling your life away after the song is done, since there's no repercussion for it and well, who cares? But don't be so brash as to lower your life meter - and thereby everybody else's - at the start of the song, even if you're the best guitarist in the world. Pulling off a stunt like that and then failing on your ass is flat-out embarassing - and I've seen that happen more than a few times. Besides, there are better ways to show your guitar prowess, like nailing the solo in Working Man or Blackened or being pissed off that you only got 98%. Yeah, I know, 98% reeks!

- Finally, do not assemble an online band, only to wait for a player and then proceed to describe the size of that player's dick, analyze the level of that player's homo-tude, and prove your ability to wail, cluck, and spit into an electronic device - and then kick that player out with your oversized idiocy. Not even monkeys do that. You know who you pissants are.