Those of you who have spent much time around me already know that I can't sing. I don't "get a little pitchy" at the far ends of the register or anything like that. I really cannot sing at all, much to my dismay. My 6 month old kitten Mrs. Beasley went into heat a few weeks ago just before I took her in to get her spayed. When she went into heat, she did this crazy yowling thing that sounded freakish. Yet compared to me trying to sing anything she sounded like a gifted soprano opera star.
The problem is that it took me a lot of years to realize that I couldn't sing through nobody's fault but my own. My parents were never like the crazy parents of today that are afraid to tell their kids that they aren't gifted in a particular area resulting in the kid who can barely comprehend 2nd grade math but believes he will build a rocket that will get man to Mars in just a few years. I mean, they weren't cruel, but if our abilities were limited in an area, they found a nice way to redirect us and maybe say that the previous direction shouldn't be our chosen path. It's something that a loving parent should do for their kids. Otherwise, they grow up believing that they are the next Jennifer Hudson and they just end up making a total fool of themselves on a Karaoke stage, believe me, I've seen it happen.
Before I realized that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, I joined a cappella choir during my senior year of high school. My good friend Irma Quintinilla kind of talked me into it and Irma could sing so I thought, she was probably a good judge of who should be in choir and who shouldn't. But my first indication of my gross inability to sing was when Mrs. Littlefield, the choir director, would be conducting us in a song and look directly in my eyes, mouth "Susan" and then close her index finger and thumb together indicating that I shouldn't be singing so loudly. At first I thought my strong alto voice was just over powering some of the less fortunate untalented singers in the group. But as the pattern continued and I complained to my mother about it, one evening, I came to realize that it could have something to do with my ability or inability, as it were. Apparently, Mrs. Littlefield, in her generosity as a high school choir director, was willing to allow someone with my talent, or lack there of, to fill a seat in the choir, as long as she and I both understood that I would not be heard above the others around me at any cost. I came to like Mrs. Littlefield a lot. She was a smart woman and over the years, I have used this technique she taught me of blending into a crowd to my advantage. Now as a 50 year old woman, I know just how wise it is not to stand out in most crowds. I used to have a poster hanging in my office at work that I think says it very well. Here's a copy....
I think if more people had been made to understand this concept when they were younger, the world would be a much better place with a lot fewer people believing that they should be the next American Idol. However, if that were the case, Karaoke would totally suck!
There are two types of people I like watching sing Karaoke. There is the person who sings about like me but is convinced that there's a record producer in the audience and that she is the next Mariah Carey and just wails out Vision of Love at the top of her lungs. To me, this is fun to watch. If I thought there was any chance that the girl would open her eyes midway through the song and suddenly realize that she has no talent and run crying from the stage, I couldn't enjoy it. It would be heart breaking. I don't want to see the oblivious suffer. But this girl has made it through the first 30 years or so of her life always believing that she has major talent just waiting to be discovered and no two bit Karaoke audience is going to convince her otherwise. She's fun to watch because she has no inhabitions. She just lays it all out there for her audience and that record producer who will one day show up to hear her perform.
The other type of people I like to watch sing Karaoke are the ones who are well aware of their inability to sing, but they also realize that Karaoke is just fun and they probably aren't any worse than the Mariah Carey wannabe who will be performing a little later so why not get up and just belt one out. I admire their courage. These people usually travel in groups and go up on stage in pairs. They always require a certain amount of alcohol (or what you might refer to as "liquid courage") while they browse through the song list looking for just the right Bon Jovi song to sing so that people will know that they don't take themselves too seriously. These people are fun and they keep going back for more and that's why I like them. They truly entertain me.
I have a low tolerance for everyone else at a Karaoke bar. The people who show up before the stage is set up and have already chosen their "playlist" of 10 songs before the music starts and are only drinking tepid water with honey because they don't want to damage their vocal chords, need to realize this isn't an audition for a Broadway show. It's Saturday night in Plano. Get over yourselves people. Here's another clue, no one has ever gone to a Karaoke bar hoping to hear some crazy woman in an evening gown sing opera.
Finally, contrary to what my leader Jimmy Buffett and his friend Toby Keith would have you believe, there is no such thing as Too Drunk to Karaoke. If anything there is "Not Drunk Enough to Karaoke". I think that is the category I would fall into since there isn't enough tequila in Texas to ever get me on a Karaoke stage. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm glad other people seem able to do it after half a Margarita. Have a great weekend!
