Anatomy of My Karaoke Fail

I am a PHENOMENAL singer. Seriously. When I’m driving in my car, alone, I’m putting on a show, man. Vocals. Air guitar. Raising the roof. Hip shaking. Elbows out. Body just straight up UNDULATING (hold on, let me see if that’s the right word…..oooh yeah, it is). Unless I’m at a stop light. Or stop sign. Or if someone is driving next to me on the freeway. Then my hands are back on the wheel. It’s really hard to get my show on out there on the road, but by golly, I manage.

For some reason, whenever I have passengers with me, the quality of my show goes down. I mean, I try. I really do. But after the song is over and I come out of my trance, I look around the vehicle for some positive feedback and I get nothing. Look to the wife, ignored. Look back at my daughter, eye roll. Look back at my son (surely HE’D have my back) and he’s lookin like he’s embarrassed for me. I mean come on people, that was a good song! Were you not feeling it?? “Seriously, dad, just put it on #3” (referring to the One Direction cd that is always in the cd player). Tough crowd. I know what needs to be done. I need to take this show where it can be appreciated. I need to take it out into the karaoke scene!

I’d always wanted to sing karaoke in public. I’d seen people do it, and I’d think to myself “Come on, man, you can do better than that! Get up there! Put on a show! Wow them! Show them how its done!”. But I never had the pelotas (testicular fortitude) for it. Until, finally, a Vegas trip.

A week prior to this Vegas trip I had told my buddy, Rick “Alright, dude. This is going to be The Trip. The Trip where I lose my karaoke virginity.” And Rick, a karaoke veteran, was excited to hear that: “ok”. So I suggest to him that we do a duet first to help loosen me up. I pick Hall and Oates “You Make My Dreams Come True” (mostly because we have a very Hall and Oates look about us. Which is unfortunate). I tell him to bone up on it, study it, ’cause darnit we’re gonna rock it! He’s hyped up about it: “ok”.

So I listen to it several times a day for a week straight. On the drive to Vegas, we’re getting some last minute studying in. We’re blaring Hall and Oates. Vegas, baby! OOOWWWW!

We get there, and most dudes are hitting the clubs, getting their drink on, chasing women. Not us. We head to a divey karaoke bar at the Imperial Palace. And unleash:

Good gravy, davey. What is that hooting? And why is that guitar so limp?? Does Rick even know the words? Or English? How long did you watch it for? REALLY?? I’m sorry about that. If I could give you those 23 seconds back, I would.

Anyway, I shake it off. Maybe I need to fly solo. Hall was bringing me down. Or maybe Oates. Doesn’t matter. Now is the time I’ve been waiting my whole life for. My life had literally been leading to this moment:

Ugh. Egad. Choke. Again, apologies. Personally, I can watch about 4 seconds of it. But those first 4 seconds are great, right? First off, I’m looking sharp. Dressed to a T. And the song strikes up and you’re probably like, “Hey, I like this song”. And I even start out with some swagger! I look like I might actually put on a show! The Humpty voice is even working a little bit! And then I lose it. Don’t know what happened. Too many eyeballs pointed in my direction, I guess. Dang. Such potential.

Anyway, I haven’t attempted Public Karaoke since. Sure, I’ve done it at little shindigs here and there. In the safety of someones living room. I think the last song I rocked was “Man in the Mirror” by Michael Jackson. I mean, I really owned it, if I recall correctly. The video proof of that is on several cell phones, but alas, not mine. So you’ll have to take my word for it. Darn. You REHEHEALLY wanted to see that, didn’t you? Oh well.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go bone up on some One Direction songs.