Sing. Sing a Song...

It's maligned.

It's mocked.

It's marvelous.

It's karaoke. And I love it.

While in Toronto for the first of my TWO Police concerts this summer (just got tickets to the Virgin Music Festival in Baltimore for next Saturday night. Headlining act = My Boys. EEEEEEE!) I also was able to spend some groovy time with a bunch of my internet pals, many of whom live in the Toronto area and a few who came up from the NY area for the weekend. We drank, we talked, we drank, we laughed, we drank, we ate, we drank. Get the picture? It was a great time. I even contemplated getting a tatoo or a piercing of some sort. But that never made it past the "discussing it to death" stage. Thank goodness. Maybe next time...

Saturday night, though, was Karaoke Night. We reserved a room at a Korean Karaoke Bar for about three hours and stayed well past that until we were kicked out. What a riot. I'd never participated in this grand event before and it didn't take long for the hambone in me to come out swinging. I was Whitney, I was a Spice Girl, I was Sting/Stewart (I opted to sing the backup part on "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" as a matter of principle), I was Diana Ross. The great thing about the karaoke style of this gang of mine is that it's all really a big old group sing, with the microphone getting passed around and around and around. Group participation at its finest. And some songs fit the experience better than other. I won't be doing a Spice Girls number again, as while it seemed like it would be a riot on paper, in reality it wasn't. Not only can those babes not sing well themselves, no one else can sing their songs well either.

I don't think I'm going to be seeking out my local karaoke circuit anytime soon, as those folks are waaaaaaay too serious for my blood. There are even whole websites where people can upload their own karaoke-esque recordings for others to listen to and then rate. This is big business, as I'm discovering. I'm just happen swigging on my Stella Artois and belting out a song or two into the microphone when the ocassion presents itself. And maybe including some choreography. And some harmony if I can figure it out...

A star has been born. At least in my own mind, anyway.

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