Sunday, October 30, 2005

Getting Your La Las

Last night, Mr. J and I participated in one of the city's great institutions. We sang karaoke in K-town. Although Mr. J and his posse only joined us for the tail end of our singing excursion, I like to think that a grand 'ol time was had by all.

Plied with liquor and a healthy dose of weekend-humor, I generally like karaoke. Not the kind of karaoke where you belt out Blondie at a bar full of strangers, but Korean-style karaoke where you belt out Blondie to a room full of people you'll inevitably have to face again. It occurred to me last night, while Ms. L performed an admirably accurate version of 99 Red Balloons, there is something bizarre about karaoke in general.

Like most people, I can't sing. I occasionally sing in the shower or alone on the elevator, but even then, I'm aware of my serious lack of talent. Similarly, as much as I adore them, my collection of friends aren't exactly song birds either. Which is why it's absolutely mystifying that I inevitably find myself every few months in a dark room on 35th Street, trying to figure out how to get "American Pie" onto the play list. Within the safety of our karaoke suite, my cohort and I will wail to our hearts content. Not only do we treat eachother to truly astonishing Guns and Roses hits, we generally hoot in appreciation. When the karaoke gods will it, we also beat a mean tambourine. In our everyday lives, you probably wouldn't be able to pay any of us to (1) sing or (2) listen to exceptionally chilling renditions of 80s ballads. Which of course leads us to the wonder that is karaoke, where WE dole out $10/person to subject ourselves to both (1) AND (2).

Some may say that alcohol can lead a horse to pretty much anywhere, but I feel that's an oversimplification. There are a variety of other generally undesirable activities that have not taken off as weekend diversions. You never overhear drunken hipsters say, "Let's go downtown and take practice SAT exams!" No, there is something magical about karaoke that wins over the most resilient of us. If one could somehow distill down exactly the motivating factor, think of the possibilities. In the meantime, I will stick to my closeted renditions of Acqua's "Barbie Girl" in anticipation of my next moment in the spotlight.

Ms. J


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sweeeeeeet Caroline, da da da...

7:18 AM  

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