Singing Karaoke is Hard to Do

After yesterday’s Porn Star Karaoke post several people wondered why I didn’t sing. Truth is I only sang once, during a trip to Albuquerque a few years ago to speak at a radio convention.

Albuquerque is the only city I've ever been to where there's a bowling alley across the street from another bowling alley. Of course I shouldn't be surprised when there are two Dillards department stores in one mall. (I hope this was by design and not some big mistake they discovered the day the mall opened.) After giving my seminar on the state of today’s radio (a joke considering I haven’t been in radio for thirty years), a group of us had dinner at the only authentic Italian restaurant in the state (Buca de Beppo), shared a tiramisu that had more rum in it than the island of St. Thomas and headed for the Leisure Bowl where we hit their karaoke bar. It was packed with shitkickers. There wasn’t a single song I had heard of, and most involved killing cheating wives or losing custody battles. The tiramisu kicked in about midnight and I got bamboozled into going up to sing for the first time.

My worst fears were immediately realized. Looking out at the sea of cowboy hats and bouffant hair I could imagine them all thinking: JEW! What they didn’t know was “Jew that couldn’t sing”. In my foggy state I thought I could get away with Neil Sedaka’s BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO. It’s a nice bluesy song that I figured I could sing in a passable southern accent.

Unfortunately, the version they played was not the slow torch song but the fast super peppy 1962 ditty (with the comma, comma, down, dooby doo down downs). So now they all must be thinking “This is what Jews sing? Pre-teen bubblegum oldies by a guy who sounds like a girl?” And even if I wasn’t Jewish, who in the WORLD would sing this song in a redneck bar?

I gamely open my mouth and am already six dooby-doo’s behind. That little bouncing ball on the monitor is flying through the words. In a desperate attempt to save myself I begin talking between verses, giving bowling announcements. "They say that Breaking up is hard to do...Hey, time to sign up for the summer leagues!...now I know, I know that it's true...new shoes for sizes 10 and above”...don't say that this is the end... "two for one bowling for the next fifteen minutes!"...instead of breaking up I wish that we were making up again....", etc. Now they were just plain stupified. When I finally finished to stone silence (usually you even get some pity applause just for trying), I slinked back to my seat, mortified, and happened to notice it was 12:17. A girl from the next table leaned over, put her hand on my shoulder reassuringly and said "You was fuckin' GREAT!" I was very relieved. At least one person liked me. She followed that by slurring "I’VE BEEN HERE SINCE 5!".