Up until a few months ago I knew little, if anything, about the popular “Rock Band” game. A few friends had bought it for Xbox and were singing its praises.

“This game rocks,” the larger of the two, said.

And with that, he sold me.

I’ve never considered myself to be much of a gamer and quietly mock those pathetic individuals who waste countless hours online battling medieval warriors and mythical beasts. But a video game that allowed me to rock out to Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix? That interested me. Especially since it “rocked.”

“Rock Band” was difficult, to say the least. The tiny multi-colored squares trailing upward on the screen seemed far too advanced for a gaming novice like me. After all, I grew up on Nintendo’s “Super Mario Bros.” and the arcade version of “Tecmo Super Bowl.” These games were simplistic at their core and had characters that looked as if they were constructed by bricklayers rather than software engineers. Not to say I was any good at them.

Psychologists might categorize me as a “sore loser” because I tended to hurl the controller at the head of my opponent, hoping to somehow disrupt his rhythm. Soon enough I realized that video games were simply not for me and retired. I did, however, contemplate a comeback after watching Fred Savage’s inspirational performance in The Wizard. Thankfully, I came to my senses.

Once college rolled around it became obvious that the advanced world of video games had all but left me behind. With no other visual stimulation to course me through those boring lectures on the novels of Henry James and Edith Wharton, my only alternative was to waste countless hours feeding the snake living inside my Nokia cell phone. Ahh “Snake,” now there was a great game!

Then came “Rock Band.” Initially, I was drawn in by its rather unique concept. Here was a video game that allowed non-musically-inclined people to pretend they were talented.

Almost overnight, millions of music lovers were granted the opportunity to front the band, which is precisely what scared me. After all, I’ve never been much of a performer. Sure I’ll belt out a number or two at Dimples in Burbank, but only after the third vodka tonic. Simply put, “Rock Band” is not a game that bodes well for performance shy folks like me.

Perhaps that’s why the sight of two grown men rocking out with sweat-glistened brows to “Mississippi Queen” and Journey’s “Wheel in the Sky” was beyond laughable. It was downright pathetic. Apparently my friends had morphed into overgrown children with an affinity for power ballads.

It was far too much stimulation for a weekday afternoon. Rather than don a red bandana and helm the plastic drum set, I politely declined their offer to “let loose” and humiliate myself.

There are many pleasures in life that I would deem “rock worthy:” a good movie, the company of friends, even an enjoyable dinner. Sadly, “Rock Band” is not one of them.