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Posts Tagged ‘karaoke’

first_cut_karaoke_soul_000_001_001_001Karaoke is one of the most fascinating and fun aspects of bar culture – period.  If one is fortunate enough to find him or herself in a truly welcoming and supportive karaoke environment, their entire perspective on life could be changed for the better!  These types of events provide a unique outlet for the less inhibited of us to get on stage and do something we can usually only do in our showers.  For those on the reserved side of the personality spectrum, with the support of friends and strangers alike, it’s a great chance to step out of one’s shell and find a new comfort zone.  Win-win!

Granted, there will always be the “performers” who are truly untalented and utterly hopeless, but, for better or worse, they get on the stage and for four minutes they get their chance to be the center of attention and have a little fun at their own expense.  No harm there, just good ol’ fashioned fun shared among multiple groups of friends with one common attribute – they’re all there to have a good time, get ninja drunk and sing!

However, not everyone is there to lend moral support and a hearty round of applause to those taking the stage; these are people I like to call “the judges”.  The judges are very easy to spot – they’re the (typically) female patrons who sit at the table, look around with a bored expression on their faces and judge each person who goes up there because they, obviously, aren’t as cool as them.  I mean, how can anybody who goes up on stage and talentlessly sings Piano Man, Friends in Low Places or even (my personal favorite) Ballroom Blitz be as cool as the person sitting there completely unengaged and totally judgmental??  I’ll tell you how – because they know how to have a good time and throw caution to the wind.  These are the folks who don’t g.a.f. what anyone thinks, as long as they and their group are having a good time out doing what they enjoy.

karaoke yo

Now, I have had my good and bad performances on the karaoke main stage a number of times, as I frequent karaoke joints on a pretty regular basis.  However, I only go with others who share my love of the genre and its transcendental attributes.  But what really gets me about the people who hate karaoke and think it’s the douchiest thing since Nixon is the fact that, inevitably, they still go!  NEWSFLASH COOL KIDS – you might not like karaoke, but we don’t like you being there even more so!  You’re a bigger buzz kill than Santa with cancer – FACT.  You don’t want to hear Sweet Caroline?  AWESOME – go to the bar down the street and leave the rest of us the hell alone… because when it’s all said and done and karaoke is over, regardless of how much fun you didn’t have, everybody else had a great time getting too drunk and singing along to the crowd favorites.  When there are fifty people in a room singing on stage and having a blast of a Saturday night, and four people having a shitty time sitting in the crowd making witty sarcastic jokes about the people on stage, it’s pretty easy to figure out who the assholes in the room are.

There’s a reason every city in every state on any given day has karaoke – it’s a good time for people who want to have a good time.  So the next time you walk by a karaoke bar and some “slut” (who is only a slut because you don’t know her) is on stage singing Spice Girls with her besties and you turn your nose up at how laaaaaaame they all are, think about what you’re judging people on – them having a good time doing what they like to do, their not being as cool as you – obviously.  Get over it. 

And yes, for those of you who hate karaoke but have never done it, it’s not because you hate it so much, it’s because you don’t have any balls  and hide behind a veil of snobbery and elitism as poor excuses for why you’re above such a good time.

 

Caus out.

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There aren’t many things in this life that I hate.  I’m inherently sarcastic, sure, but actually loathing something is far beyond the scope of the Skelladay spirit.  I come from a long line of non-complainers and “get over it-ers,” and frankly, I prefer it that way.  I do loathe Bill O’Reilly but his perfunctory left-side bashing has really just become background ratings noise.

funny-pictures-cats-do-karaoke Ahhh, noise…which brings me to my detestation of Karaoke.

 Now I may alienate some of you dive bar superstars who like to take me down to the Paradise City every Saturday night, but hear me out.  It’s absurd.  Not in an attempting to do a home perm absurd, but the exhibition for the sake of being “free spirited” or “fun” is unneeded- – that’s what cleavage and hookahs are for.

What really irks me is not so much what a jackass you look like as you barely climb that hill towards Falsetto suicide but the pain that you inflict upon us other patrons, who are already a little disenchanted at paying $4 for a Coors Lite.  Sure, I’ve paid covers to see bands….many, many times in fact.  I love live music! But that music comes with an invisible certificate of authenticity that says that your ears won’t hemorrhage once the lights go down.   It’s like buying an airplane ticket and having someone say we may either be going to Turks and Caicos or… Mobile, Alabama.  Why do you think so many people look disappointed on the Price is Right?  They want the Jet Ski and end up with the PopSecret popcorn gift pack. 

 Throw into the mix a night of Jagerbombs, which as we all know, inevitably encourages karaoke and all of a sudden the boys in the Outer Banks sweatshirts who barely know their names are now crooning Don’t Stop Believin’ for their homey Matt who just lost his girlfriend Katie, also due to that sneaky green bastard bottle of Jager.  But that’s ok to them, because the world of karaoke doesn’t make sense, just like their insistence on wearing basketball sneakers with everything.  They’re Simon and Garfunkel for three minutes and we all suffer for it.

 Which brings me to the worst karaoke offender.  The (unofficial) karaoke tryout.  This brazen lady or gentleman thinks they’re pretty damn good, but wants to work out the kinks to Beyonce’s “Halo” before next week’s tryout for American’s Got Talent.  Common tell-tale signs include strutting like a mating bird across the makeshift stage (known as ‘presence’), closing their eyes and wearing cocktail gear to a bar that serves Bud Lite buckets 5 for $6.

 Now, I’m not a dream killer.  By no means.  If you want to be a singer, an astronaut, a rodeo clown or a podiatrist knock yourself out.  This is America, the land of milk and honey.  But while you’re ‘trying to figure out the bridge,’ do it at home in the safety of your own bedroom.  I didn’t come to your kitchen and set up shop the first time I tried to make risotto and leave sloppy, gluey rice mess in your sink, did I?

 At this point I should make the confession that I have never tried karaoke.  Not once, not ever- not a scrapple, bar or note.  In a logical sense many of you would argue that, “If you’ve never tried it, how do you know you hate it?”  It’s a fair question, but I’ve also never been a hobo or pierced my nipple, things I’m sure I would dislike.  Sometimes you just have a hunch.

 Those of you who have the pleasure of personally being in The Caus’ sphere of influence know that in addition to his love of sweater vests, he looooooves karaoke.  Loves it.  Dreams about it.  Prints lyrics at home to practice.  As my friend, I love the Caus.  We talk daily and consider ourselves kindred souls.  But do I understand his desire and want to go perform half-assed covers of Seal ballads when his personality and presence is by all means enough and more?  Hell-fucking-no.

 As Hargusta so aptly says:

 “Instead of singing, people should take turns holding the microphone and screaming ‘I’m an asshole’ directly into it.”

 So this is an open hate letter to karaoke and a means of challenge to The Caus to explain why people participate in this nonsense. 

It’s kinda like a dance off, which I would do.

Livin’ On a Prayer,

Skelladay

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