My lovely friend Megan had her 30th birthday party last night at a local karaoke bar. I went outside to check my messages and walked into a conversation:
GUY 1: “You see, they treat us nice here, no more fakers. That’s how it was at first, you get all the fakers in here. Now? Now, well, you know, they all went away and they treat us right. The real guys, we always get out time on stage. You see?”
GUY 2 (disinterested and desperately trying to finish a cigarette to escape back inside): Yeah. Yeah, man. Yeah. Yep.
The whole idea that there is karaoke elitism out in the world is hilarious to me (and GUY 1 looked like someone I would see from Krypton Comics arguing the merits of Magic: The Gathering over Warhammer).
To me (and I adamantly don’t sing at karaoke), I enjoy the intimacy of the whole thing, not just of those from your group singing songs that you have a history of listening with and those shared memories, but you also get a strange intimacy with completely perfect strangers. They are out there, laying it all on the line and not afraid to fail, and there is something admirable about that, even if they are goddamn awful. However, while the act is intimate, it is open to all. If you want to feel like one of the elite – go join a fucking band. Like all the other cool kids.
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