Dallas Rock City

On November 20, 1973, The Who was playing to a sold-out crowd in San Francisco. At the start of the encore, Keith Moon passed out after having taken handfuls of tranquilizers. After attempts to revive Moon failed, Pete Townshend asked the audience, "Is there a drummer in the house?" An incredulous teenager raised his hand, and got the impromptu opportunity to play "My Generation" in front of thousands of screaming fans.

I, too, was called to greatness.

Earlier today, lunch was nearing an end. I was chatting with some teachers in the lounge and doing a crossword puzzle when the secretary came in. "Does anyone here have 5th period off?" None of us did. "Oh, that's too bad," she said. "The fundraising guy is here for the 7th grade assembly, and he set up the game Rock Band, and he's looking for teachers to play as the kids and entering the gym."

I bought Rock Band at the start of the summer, and it's practically all I did for two months. I love Rock Band. I adore Rock Band. Once, when my wife was out and I had a few drinks, I got to third base with Rock Band.

"I'd love to play," I said, "but I have a 5th period class." The secretary insisted, saying she'd find someone to cover my class. I didn't need any more prompting.

I wrangled two of the coaches to play guitar and bass (if I ever form an all-teacher band, I'm calling it The Whom), and we rocked out to "Say It Ain't So," Creep," and "Wanted Dead or Alive." The kids cheered. "Our teacher rocks!" my 5th period class shouted. The fundrasier guy was so impressed that he got other teachers to cover our last two classes of the day, so we got to play for the other two assemblies, adding "Mississippi Queen," "In Bloom," and "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" to our setlist.

I spent the last half of my day playing Rock Band, and getting paid to do it. I rule!