Karaoke

I LOVE karaoke.

Anyone can sing because everybody can sing.

Except Karen.

I love this woman, worship the very ground she walks on, but she couldn’t sing if she could sing.

That bad.

Karaoke is fun, a good value requiring minimal marketing expense, and offers a good return if it is done right. There’s my free marketing advice to all you eligible bar owners when we start back up again. Keep the drinks flowing, as you know, the drunker people get, the better they not only sing, but the better they actually sound to the rest of the drunks. Win-win.

Every so often you get treated to your own Susan Boyle surprise from one of the contestants. Someone who has a great set of pipes that stop all the side chatter in the bar and usually they don’t even know how good they are (at least the great ones make you think that). That moment is worth suffering through the 21 year-old singing the hard luck blues using his (or her) vast life experiences to draw upon. Or the hippie, lucky enough to still be alive, fighting through the fog to destroy House of the Rising Sun.

If you are really lucky you catch the unhappy housewife on a busman’s holiday of sorts, a night out with her girlfriends. just a glass (or two) of liquid courage to bolster her newfound temerity and….

Thinking That young bartender looks really good in his tight T-shirt, she snatches the microphone from DJ Luzer. She belts out a rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow that still gives me chills. For the four minutes she was singing that song there weren’t three kids waiting at home with a sink full of dishes they promised to do. There wasn’t an unfaithful husband waiting for her to return to do everything for him. There weren’t bills she knew she would have to call and get more time to pay for. There wasn’t even a mongrel dog chewing on the only nice pair of shoes she owned.

Not tonight. Not now.

There was however, a very good-looking bartender serving her.

I hate to admit it, but I laugh like hell when the guy (or gal) take the mike like it’s made of pure gold and proceed to completely butcher whatever song they attempt. Their professionalism and mannerisms are off the chart and every bit as cliché as Bill Murray’s Lounge Singer act on Saturday Night Live back in the day (Star Wars, nothin’ but Star Wars, Nothin’ but Star Wars…in Outer Space!). They have everything down except the actual singing part. I mean really, maybe if just half the notes were on-key. The more the star wannabe gets into the emotion of the song, the better they must be, right? I’m sure that’s their thinking anyway. This is when Karen pokes her very sharp elbows into me when I bust a gut laughing.

BOMBO as Martin Crane would say. I mean there’s something to say for standing up and trying, but you have to understand that generally people don’t cringe or laugh at good music.

But hey, you’re singing. How bad can that be? Have fun.

Me do karaoke?

No.

I don’t want anyone laughing at me.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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