Saturday, 21 May 2016 04:00 pm
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deckardcanineMy family took me out last night to celebrate my birthday a little early. Since I didn't find out when to expect them until Thursday, I initially declined an office invitation to a happy hour with karaoke in honor of the company's 20th anniversary. When I learned that the happy hour would end 20 minutes before my ride (just enough time to run home and freshen up), I asked the inviter if there were still slots, explaining why I hadn't RSVPed before. I needn't have worried.
The karaoke menu was available online. From the looks of it, it hadn't been proofread at all. There were way too many repeat entries, sometimes on the very next line. Often the song title and artist had swapped columns; sometimes the numbers had as well. And I doubt the Beatles ever sang, "When I'm Sixty." Nevertheless, I skimmed the thousands of entries and noted a few possibilities.
Just a few. I came to realize how few melodies I confidently know from start to finish. That's in addition to limiters such as which songs I like, which cater to my baritone range, and which are neither too lovey nor too "All by Myself." So much for paying tribute to David Bowie or Prince.
I arrived about 15 minutes into the happy hour. Again, I needn't have worried: The singing hadn't started. After half a glass of Korean beer Kloud, I decided to start the show. (I'd gotten karaoke started in Vietnam as well, but hardly anyone had arrived then.)
I appreciate the DJ not announcing up front what I would sing. The crowd got excited at the opening chords of "Smells like Teen Spirit" and again when I headbanged at the cymbals (not having nearly enough hair to make that look good, but I hadn't thought to check the props for a wig). Then I surprised them with a nasal "What iis thiis soong...aaall abouuut?" Yup, I picked one of the last promising entries on the menu, under Yankovic.
It was something of an inspired choice. There's not much pressure to sing well on a song like that. I even messed up considerably at one point and people didn't notice. It almost feels like cheating that way. On a less selfish note, it seemed a good way to open the festivities: If I sucked, at least it would still entertain. But I sounded better than I'd hoped. The audience ate it up.
As I stepped off the stage, the organizer announced my upcoming birthday, and my co-workers sang to me. I tried not to look embarrassed as the staff gave me a one-candle square sponge cake about 12 cm x 12 cm x 5 cm. Yeah, I had cake a couple hours before dinner. In my defense, I offered it to lots of people before digging in; only one took a piece.
One friend said he kinda wanted my autograph. He sent a phone-made video of my performance to an absent friend, who reportedly swore at it. I'm sure I'll hear more from the latter next week. Maybe I'll post the video myself if it looks good.
The organizer talked me into not leaving a little early. Sure enough, I got a prize for being funniest: a Starbucks gift card. Would I have gotten it if I had gone closer to last, seeing as some others had cast their votes and left early? Oh well.
This may be the first time in my life I've gone to two celebrations in one evening. Glad the second was low-key. My presents were mostly shortish books this time, so you guys should see more book reviews from me in the second half of this year. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have ordered the gnocchi Alfredo after the cake; I had to forgo the last few bites. Still made room for a small share of the limoncello cake and strawberry ice cream, tho.
I went home tired and overfed. But pleased.
The karaoke menu was available online. From the looks of it, it hadn't been proofread at all. There were way too many repeat entries, sometimes on the very next line. Often the song title and artist had swapped columns; sometimes the numbers had as well. And I doubt the Beatles ever sang, "When I'm Sixty." Nevertheless, I skimmed the thousands of entries and noted a few possibilities.
Just a few. I came to realize how few melodies I confidently know from start to finish. That's in addition to limiters such as which songs I like, which cater to my baritone range, and which are neither too lovey nor too "All by Myself." So much for paying tribute to David Bowie or Prince.
I arrived about 15 minutes into the happy hour. Again, I needn't have worried: The singing hadn't started. After half a glass of Korean beer Kloud, I decided to start the show. (I'd gotten karaoke started in Vietnam as well, but hardly anyone had arrived then.)
I appreciate the DJ not announcing up front what I would sing. The crowd got excited at the opening chords of "Smells like Teen Spirit" and again when I headbanged at the cymbals (not having nearly enough hair to make that look good, but I hadn't thought to check the props for a wig). Then I surprised them with a nasal "What iis thiis soong...aaall abouuut?" Yup, I picked one of the last promising entries on the menu, under Yankovic.
It was something of an inspired choice. There's not much pressure to sing well on a song like that. I even messed up considerably at one point and people didn't notice. It almost feels like cheating that way. On a less selfish note, it seemed a good way to open the festivities: If I sucked, at least it would still entertain. But I sounded better than I'd hoped. The audience ate it up.
As I stepped off the stage, the organizer announced my upcoming birthday, and my co-workers sang to me. I tried not to look embarrassed as the staff gave me a one-candle square sponge cake about 12 cm x 12 cm x 5 cm. Yeah, I had cake a couple hours before dinner. In my defense, I offered it to lots of people before digging in; only one took a piece.
One friend said he kinda wanted my autograph. He sent a phone-made video of my performance to an absent friend, who reportedly swore at it. I'm sure I'll hear more from the latter next week. Maybe I'll post the video myself if it looks good.
The organizer talked me into not leaving a little early. Sure enough, I got a prize for being funniest: a Starbucks gift card. Would I have gotten it if I had gone closer to last, seeing as some others had cast their votes and left early? Oh well.
This may be the first time in my life I've gone to two celebrations in one evening. Glad the second was low-key. My presents were mostly shortish books this time, so you guys should see more book reviews from me in the second half of this year. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have ordered the gnocchi Alfredo after the cake; I had to forgo the last few bites. Still made room for a small share of the limoncello cake and strawberry ice cream, tho.
I went home tired and overfed. But pleased.