Just Say No...To Karaoke
Its good policy to leave people wanting more. To leave while you're ahead.
This is why I don't sing Karaoke very often. I'm good at it -- I never said I'm good at singing -- I'm good at Karaoke. Which are two totally different things.
Put me on stage at Carnegie Hall and my off-key rendition of "Mony Mony" complete with Billy Idol-esque sneer and the alternate lyrics would get tomatos thrown at it and by connection, me. But put me in a bar doing that routine and suddenly its a winner.
So that brings me back to the beginning of the post: leaving people wanting more. If I am awesome, nay, Awesome at Karaoke once a year, its dominant. I start doing it once a month, it becomes lame. Quite frankly the time two years ago that I brought the house down with "The Safety Dance" is still sating the appetite. I don't need to go do it, don't want to go do it, won't go sing again for some time.
I learned this at Art Farm years ago. One of my old college professors and I got up and sang an absolutely killer version of "Stayin' Alive" with me singing an 85% accurate Barry Gibb falsetto -- it was a sliding triple, in baseball terms -- and him rapping the same lyrics like he was Snow singing "Informer". We got a standing ovation from everyone including the DJ. Then we came back up later and tried to sing "Come Sail Away" -- not the Styx version, mind you, the Eric Cartman version from South Park. It was a bigger bomb than "Cop Rock". And now that's all anyone remembers, just the terrible South Park song we couldn't pull off.
This is why I will never again sing Karaoke. Everyone still talks about that "Safety Dance" performance. It gets more legendary with each passing year. I retire after that.
Then Sunday night comes. Phone rings at 10:15, and I'm in the basement watching TV, but the phone is all the way upstairs so I don't hear it. When I retrieved the message before bed around midnight, I was a little upset I didn't hear it ring.
It was one of my buddies on the message who says he and his girlfriend are at the bar, and then he hands the phone off to this random girl (most definitely NOT his girlfriend) who is a fan of the site, but a HUGE fan of our podcast. Now my buddy is back on the phone, telling me about the coincidence that he runs into these friends of his girlfriend who find out he's friends with "Polyfro" and suddenly he's the coolest...and thus, he had to call me to prove he knew me. Then he invites me to come join them to at the bar, as they're singing Karaoke and it rather sucks so they need my Awesomeness.
And suddenly I'm Fred Savage or something. Who thought the day would come when someone else is cool for having MY number in their phone? Seriously, how does that happen? And in what universe? I wish I was making this up! (actually strike that, its kinda cool, in all honesty)
The hell of it is, its quite likely I would have strewn my principles into the wind like so much dust and gone to sing. Yep, had I heard the phone ring, I'd have been there, sneering, balling my hand into a fist and screaming "Rebel Yell" or "White Wedding" or even "Flesh For Fantasy". And there's an outside chance I could have been convinced to sing something by Neil Diamond. But alas.
Now, Eddie, at the bar at 10:15 on Sunday night? Seriously? Even I have to draw the line somewhere. Really, man. But don't think I wouldn't be there next time. Au contraire, to those fans of mine you met, maybe next time I'll hear the 70s Monday Night Football theme song ringtone and you can talk me into coming out of Karaoke Retirement to sing "Sweet Caroline". In fact, you can count on it.
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