I’ve been thinking and talking about singing karaoke for decades. While I made three public performances over my seventy-nine years, I’ve been too chicken to move forward. I talk a big game but haven’t followed through. I took a karaoke class last fall and sang three songs: “Let It Be Me”, “And I Love You So”, and “King of the Road”. There were fifteen people in my class, and once the first guy sang, I knew I could do it. I couldn’t be any worse than him.
I learned several things in class: you should warm your voice up with a few simple exercises, learn your range and stick to it, and know which version of the song you want to sing. The Elvis Presley version of “Let It Be Me” is very different than Willie Nelson’s. While I’m comfortable singing several of Presley’s songs, he sang “Let It Be Me“ with the philharmonic orchestra and there’s a BIG finish with that version. I shouldn’t go there because I can’t hit the high notes.
A couple of weeks ago one of the women in our Singles New Beginnings group, Lynn, brought a newspaper to class. She said, “They’re having karaoke at Mystic Ice Cream on Friday.”
I fired back, “Let’s go. We can sing a duet.”
A second woman, Susan, said, “I’ll sing a duet with you. How about “That’s Amore“. It’s an easy song.”
When the banter ended, we had a plan. We were meeting at Mystic Ice Cream at 5:30 on Friday to sing. I fretted about it for the next two days. I had convinced Susan to sing “King of the Road” because I knew I could handle it. I wasn’t sure about her, but we were just out to have fun. In the end, Barbara arrived with me, and we found Lynn, Susan, and one of our Singles New Beginnings Judys waiting. Bill showed up a few minutes later, and we sat, talked, and listened to the other singers.
The placed was packed. When I say it was standing room only, I mean it. The room was bulging at the seams. One by one the singers sang and the polite crowd applauded.
The more I heard, the more confident I became. About an hour in, Susan and I sang our duet, and we did well for two first-timers. After we sang, I signed up for a second song, Perry Como’s “And I Love You So,” which went well too. A couple of people made a point of complimenting me, and that felt good. Lynn sang a solo, and later she and Susan sang a duet. We all had fun.
I celebrated by purchasing a bowl of ice cream for Barbara and me to share. I haven’t had ice cream in over a year, but it was time to celebrate, so we did.
We decided to stick around a bit longer. One of the regulars stopped by our table and said, “They wrap up here at 8:30. I’m heading to Legends after this. It’s a bar a couple miles away. You should come.” As the crowd began to thin, the MC came over and asked if I’d sing the final song. “You can be our closer.” I was surprised and flattered. Scrambling for a choice, I went with Presley’s “Let It Be Me”. I should have picked Willie’s version, because when the philharmonic hit Elvis’s high notes, I couldn’t keep up. Lesson learned.
Lynn, Susan, Barbara and I met up at Legends prepared to give it another go. While Mystic had its ice cream, Legends was a full-blown bar with a younger crowd. There were dozens of TV’s strung around the room, with a single DJ to play the requested songs for each singer to sing. You simply stood up at your table, focused on the closest screen and let her rip. The four of us ordered two-dollar drafts and listened. Several other Mystic singers arrived to join the festivities.
After downing my first beer, I signed up to sing. At one point someone sang a slow tune. Barbara wanted to dance, so we did. We were the only ones dancing in the entire bar, but we didn’t care. A couple of songs later, it was my turn to sing. Barbara went from table-to-table encouraging the patrons to join in on my rendition of “King of the Road”.
A song or two later, Lynn, Susan, Barbara and I were dancing. Once we started others joined. Before long twenty to thirty people were dancing while a lone singer sang. We brought dancing to a bar that never danced before. We were trend setters and it felt spectacular.
We stayed for a little over an hour. Lynn left first, with Barbara and me not far behind. Susan decided to stay. The next day she sent Barbara an email with the following message.
It was a great time. At the end I had a couple of surprise exchanges with strangers. 😉 A woman who had been sitting with the experienced singers walked by. I said hi, and she stopped. The sweet spot of our conversation… she said the night seemed special… “there was something magical in the air”. I believe we had something to do with it! Dancing does something to the spirit! Plus, we were new, fresh faces.
Over the following several days, I placed a notepad near the Echo in my kitchen. When a song comes on that I think I should add to my karaoke list, I write it down and add the singer whose style best matches mine. I’ve started carrying the list in my wallet. Here’s a few tunes I’m ready to sing.
Willie Nelson: “Let It Be Me” and “Always on My Mind”
Frank Sinatra: “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning” and “Cycles”
Kenny Rogers: “The Gambler” and “Lady”
Jim Croce: “I’ll Have to Say I Love You in a Song”
Charlie Rich: “Behind Closed Doors”
Bobby Goldsboro’s “Little Geen Apples” and I want to learn “Me and the Elephant”. We’ll see how it goes.
My biggest takeaway from that night of karaoke echoed something I’d heard from others years ago: face your fears. Singing in public isn’t any harder than dealing with any other fear of the unknown. The worst that can happen is people might not like how or what you sing. The sting of failure only lasts a moment, but success sticks with you forever and it feels good. It’s something you look forward to feeling again.
It took me more than seventy-nine years to sing three songs in public, and only about five hours to sing the next four. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, you might try having a beer or two to boost your courage or enjoying some ice cream to celebrate your success. It worked for me, and it might work for you too.