Karaoke

Ah, Karaoke, the favorite pastime of the drunk and misguided. Last night I subjected myself to some of the most excruciating and alternatingly hysterical hours of fun in the name of a birthday celebration. Now, ya'll know I moved to NYC to be on the Broad-way, so singing is something very close to my heart; however, being trapped in a small hot room listening to drunk people scream into a microphone until your ears bleed, is not exactly my cup of tea. I have always considered Karaoke to be singing for those who can't...and shouldn't. But give a person a few drinks and they feel it necessary to live out their Bon Jovi fantasies in front of God and everyone. And of course they can't select a mild, low-pitched song (though most Karaokiers think pitch is only something you do at a baseball game). No,no. They must select the loudest, most piercing power ballad ever written. Unless you are Pat Benatar, leave it "Alone"!!!! Oh, yes, and do not attempt anything made famous by Whitney Houston, Celine Dion or Barbara Streisand, lest you make a bigger ass of yourself than you're already gonna.

I suggest, for those of you with a modicum of self-respect or auditory awareness, that you select one song, preferably upbeat (because the only thing worse than a painful song is a slow painful song), learn all the words, and then try your very best not to have to sing unless threatened with bodily harm. Be very careful not to have more than a couple of these stand-by favorites, lest you look like one of those "professional" Karaoke folks who seriously seek to impress strangers with their U2 renditions...you MUST get some self-esteem folks!

Of course, when all else fails and you can't escape, turn to the waiter...the cocktail tray is your friend!