Sunday, August 27, 2006
The Sound of Your Own Voice
The difference between perception and reality may never be so great as when one is watching karaoke. This sad sadistic art form came about during my life, although I am relieved to say that I made it through my painful high school years without hearing so much as a word about it. I come to this with a severe disadvantage, of course, being that I have a horrible voice, singing (especially) and speaking, and hearing myself recorded pains me. Nobody, I suppose, likes the sound of their own voice, save for a few of my exes -- kidding! For the most part, life has been good in this respect -- I have watched karoake with varying degrees of wonder and horror -- the best was an eastern european man who dressed in a white suit and did a great Sinatra, down to the gestures and facial tics. He performed six of Old Blue Eye's best before giving up the stage. There's not much to say about the worst -- you can imagine it and like the old detective writer says about the worst, it's far darker than you can imagine and someone is always willing to give you money for it.
Karoake, much like Halloween, is a chance to be a different more thrilling self which explains why people flip through the thick songbooks of possibilities with the intensity most often seen while taking an SAT or GRE. I overheard a girl once say, It has to be perfect for me. Huh? It seems an unlikely venue for perfection -- an indifferent crowd, lyrics streaming in front of you on a prompter, the cheesy backdrop music. I understood, though, that this was a defining moment, late in the evening. The person who might do Joplin's "Ball and Chain" was a considerably different girl than one who might sing Madonna's "Lucky Star." I've been asked to do karoake once years ago-- by the wife of someone who was trying to get me to consider an affair. She had a determined way and kept battering me and a couple other people to back her up on the Stones' "Ruby Tuesday." Did she know the secret desires of her husband's heart? I felt pressured, given it was late in the evening, I was into my cups, but not far enough, and knew all the words to that particular song. Who doesn't? I got up on stage and sang as loud as I could. Afterward she said, You might be pretty, but you sing for shit. People agreed after that I should be a tambourine girl should I ever decide to take the stage again.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Then my friend offered me a drink for us to share /And that was all that I needed." The White Stripes
1 glass of champagne
2 ounces of cranberry juice
Serve chilled, garnished with a slice of lemon.
Benedictions and Maledictions
In answer to Trouble Man about where to take dates in Detroit:
I'd say that there are lots of good restaurants -- Mosaic (for atmosphere -- very Sex and the City with a beautiful bar), any of the Greek restaurants in Greektown, Spago (in Windsor) for Italian food and great service to start. I'll add to this list every week until I exhaust all the possibilities. Also, I'll write an entry on date ideas. Anyone who has a start to this, please feel free to comment. Jason, I'm dwelling on your Halloween curse. I'm going to figure out a way for you to have better Halloweens as this is a serious issue.