After having successfully using my jedi mind powers to not merely divert Tropical Storm Emily from the North Carolina coastline but obliterate the entire stinking weather system yesterday, I needed to give my brain a rest. Enter a fellow troublemaker, the Lucy to my Ethel.
After considering the various merits of hitting up the karaoke at Hooters (fill in your joke workbooks at home, kids) Lucy and I decided to bust (HA!) out our skills at a karaoke contest at a much tamer local restaurant.
Way back in middle school, I learned America was considered to be the great Melting Pot for welcoming people from all cultures. (I’ve been trying to come up with a funny way to spin the subsequent discrimination against these same immigrants but dang it, I can’t figure out how to make bigotry funny. I’m blaming my lack of brain workiness on the insanely high level of noise in my house today. The Kiddos are less than 24 hours away from a vacation. They are therefore blazing around the house like amped up coke fiends. Yup, just used a drug simile to describe my kids. You stay classy, San Diego. Moving on.)
Anyway, last night, I discovered the modern melting pot – the karaoke bar. Oh, the sights that we saw. Old, young, tall, small, skinny or fluffy – all signed their releases and stepped up to the mike. As we looked around, Lucy and I realized that we had to record just a few of the things we saw for posterity. We spent the next few hours mining some blog gold. Enjoy the following nuggets.
First up, a bit of karaoke irony. If you are going to choose a song for a karaoke contest, pick a song you know. One would think this would go without saying. One would be wrong, as one contestant demonstrated.
I got a little worried for this particular lady when I saw her nervously touching up her lip gloss four times before she went on to sing. Sticky Gloss steps up to the mike, her music starts and….nothing. Words are turning from red to green on the guide screen, but Sticky Gloss has frozen. She turns to the MCs and they generously give her another chance. This time, Sticky Gloss gamely stumbles her way through the first 1/3 of the song then admits defeat, throws the mike back to the MC and slinks back to her seat. The song? Shania Twain’s That Don’t Impress Me Much. Indeed, Sticky Gloss, indeed.
Let us turn from the absolutely terrified to another variety of contestant – the supremely disinterested. This individual tries as hard as possible to let everyone in the room know that s/he doesn’t really care about this silly little contest. Yet, this person shows up every single week to compete. And finish fourth.
|Listen people, I've been to this rodeo before. And I. Don't. Care. I'm giving you The Rose and then I'm sitting my sweet self on this chair and texting for the rest of the night. That's all you get from me. So suck it.|
Finally, we arrive at the sublimely ridiculous. Lucy and I noticed this particular individual chiefly because he arrived in a yellow satin boxing robe. Let that one sink in for a second. A yellow. Satin. Boxing robe. Yes, we did have a serious debate as to whether this particular individual had pants on. (Thankfully, he did.) Five points if you can guess what this guy listed as his favorite movies? That’s right, the Rocky series. You can’t make this stuff up.
Now, the karaoke contest MC is a wise individual, knowing just how to stir the various elements of the melting pot to achieve the best show possible. Rocky, therefore, was strategically given a later spot in the line-up. He strutted up to the mike and threw open the robe to reveal…black bike shorts. Again, pause to get the full effect. Under his yellow satin boxing robe, Rocky wore black bike shorts. Although, I guess we should be thankful that Rocky had some sort of pant on at all?
As Rocky began to…sing, I quickly realized that words simply could not do this performance any justice. Therefore, may I present to you the following snippet so that you, too, can bask in the glory that is Rocky.
Our forefathers would truly be proud.