I’m seriously considering buying a karaoke machine. I’ve talked about it for a couple years, but I think it’s time to pull the trigger. Whenever I hear songs I like, I sing along. Mostly in the car or when I’m alone in the house. Don’t get me wrong, I sang while Ruth was around as well. We both liked music, but she could sing. I just like to do it. When I’m alone I sound pretty good, so my interest in making the purchase is supported by my newfound courage.
About forty years ago, when we were making our annual spring break golf pilgrimages to Myrtle Beach, we visited a bar in the lobby of a hotel near the Southwind where we stayed each year. There was no karaoke, but the piano player sang and asked if anyone cared to sing along. Some guy did and he was horrible. That’s when I suggested Ruth give it a try.
The next song was “On A Clear Day”. Ruth liked the song, but wasn’t sure of the words, so I whispered them in her ear, and she belted it out. She was great and those in the bar gave her a huge round of applause. It was the only time I heard her sing in such a venue. I think she sang karaoke with Elizabeth on a girl’s trip to Europe in 1999, but I wasn’t there.
My one and only karaoke appearance took place in Vegas at the Barbary Coast. None of the kids were married but they were all there. Michael’s then girlfriend, Sarah, joined the five of us, our friends, Jim and Diane, and the kids’ friend, Jason. There may have been others, but those were the key players.
Most of us had more to drink than we should have. Michael ordered Yager shots for the five guys while we played blackjack. Jim declined his, and being a waste not want not kinda guy, I downed his for him. It’s the first and only time that I started sweating spontaneously. A bead of sweat formed across my forehead, just below my hairline. Taking that second shot wasn’t my best moment, but the liquid courage was helpful when it came time to sing.
Unbeknownst to me, Elizabeth signed me up to sing Kenny Rogers’, “The Gambler”. I’d been singing softly along with others less talented than me, so I reluctantly stepped forward and sang. Elizabeth and Sarah sang backup, even though Kenny sang solo. I didn’t bring the house down, but it was fun.
A few songs later, Michael took the stage. If he had sung before me, I would have taken a pass when they announced my name. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him sing, but it was the first time I heard him sing in a bar.
He’d sung in the high school choir his senior year and was wonderful. He and a fellow senior sang a beautiful duet as a part of their graduation ceremony, but his bar song was spectacular, even if it was supported by a healthy dose of alcohol. He sang John Michael Montgomery’s “Sold (The Grundy County Auction Incident)”. I learned later that he sang his way through most, if not all, of the karaoke bars in East Lansing while he was a student at MSU. I still get a lump in my throat when I think about how proud I was that night.
Later, our friend, Jason took the stage. It wasn’t his finest hour. He could sing well enough, but his dedication to the girls in the crowd caused me to take pause. I don’t remember the song, but his dedication is locked in my brain forever. He grabbed his crotch with one hand and pointed to a girl to his left, then his right and finally to MY DAUGHTER, Elizabeth, with his other hand. As he pointed, he said, “I want to dedicate this song to you, and you, but most of all you, BZ.”
My thought was “I’m gonna kill him”, but I mellowed as the song progressed. He knew I was pissed. Liquid courage impaired his judgement, so he stayed clear of me for the remainder of the evening.
A few years ago, while Sutton and Elizabeth were singing their way around the country, I considered holding a concert in our Florida yard. I thought our neighbors would enjoy it. I contemplated having them appear on our lanai. Neighbors could bring folding chairs and sit on our lawn to enjoy the show. We have a corner lot so passersby could park their golf carts and listen. We never pulled it off.
The following year, when Covid hit, Elizabeth and Sutton held driveway concerts for their California neighbors. They live-streamed their shows. Ruth and I watched from our Florida living room. That’s one of the good things that happened during Covid.
If I follow through with my karaoke purchase, I’m going to invite several friends to perform. We may start in my living room, and if we get good enough, move to the lanai and invite others to join in. It will have to be a BYO event, because if we have the crowd I believe we’ll have, I won’t be able to afford everyone’s drinks.
One thing is certain. I’ll require a two-drink minimum before anyone steps forward to sing. That way if they don’t sing as well as they think they can, no one will care.