by Al Davis, Karaoke Night DJ
Jan. 20, 2007
Whoa, rugby shirt frat boy. I'm sorry. You've just completely missed the point of "Piano Man." It's a song saying that the life you are leading right this very second is tragic and regrettable. It is not an anthem affirming the poor life choices you are too myopic to see.
I guess I'm your everyday 40-year-old guy. I work in a machine shop and boss around some dummies. I wish I could do something else, but I like the steady income. Just trying to be entrepeneurial and have something on the side. I figured, "Hey, tunes is a good thing. People like music, people like to sing. It makes them feel better." Hell, I remember growing up how singing Boz Scaggs into a hairbrush in my basement den made me feel better. So I figure I can make some average guys and girls feel better with karaoke, and make some coin on the side.
What the hell was I thinking? You can probably tell by the look on my face that my life is not very rewarding. You'd be right. How could you tell? Was it the visible, squeamish restraint in my face when I announced some girl named Reagan was going to sing "Summer Lovin'" from Grease and pretended we were all in for a treat?
"I don't wanna lose your love toniiiight. I just wanna use your love toniiiight."
Why am I here? This is repulsive, but at the same time I can't help but exploit a large group of people into lowest-common-denominator acts of humiliation. Like that time I was in the Marines and I was leaving the DMZ. I had these disgusting, dirty socks I used as a makeshift headband. I was just going to throw them away, but I decided that it would be that much funnier to throw them into a busy public square and watch Koreans fight over them like they were gold. Man, did they ever. I've never seen a chicken used as a weapon before...
Anyhow, the pay isn't the best, plus I have to bring my own equipment and hope my speakers don't blow from that guy who thinks he's being hilariously original by screaming "Livin' On A Prayer" like a maniac. I know I'm not helping by muting the music temporarily during the "whoa--OHHHHH" part and having the audience chime in, but getting a drunken crowd rowdy makes it easier to get what I'm there for.
I'll be straight with you. The one thing that keeps me coming back is the prospect of seeing breasts. Nubile, ripe-on-the-tree peaches. Let's face it. There are a lot of 16 to 19-year-old breasts I still want to see. Hell, these chicks will dance in their underwear just to put it up on that Myspace or Youtube the kids are using these days. Just imagine what some drunk, underage girls with boring lives will do for beads? Let's just say I'm glad I went to Jo-Ann Fabrics and got a bunch from their discount bin beforehand.
I know I make my own problems here. If I want people singing better songs, I suppose I could class up the roster a bit and go for a more sophisticated karaoke gig. But who wants to end up in a suburban cafe IN THE DAYTIME listening to 45-year-old women "soulfully" sing Diana Krall songs? Besides, they're not very responsive to the bead offer. I checked.