Karaoke Compliments

I like going to karaoke with Tom. We argue about who sings worse. I, of course, think I do. He, of course, insists he does. Truthfully, I think we’re about even.

Last night, after hitting the batting cages (best deal in town – 15 fast pitch balls for only 23 cents) we decided to sing a few tunes. We were ushered into our own private room. We began flipping through the song book. As I was looking, he went to get a couple of beers. I tasted mine. It tasted, well, unusual. I looked at the can. It was my first meeting with malt liquor. Being from the rural south, I consider that quite an accomplishment, that it took me 33 years before becoming acquainted with it.

As we were trying to distinguish between songs that we liked and songs we could actually sing, we decided to embrace the notion of karaoke. Let’s just sing. And we did. Peter, Paul and Mary. The Carpenters. Dawn (sans Tony Orlando). Chubby Checker. Billy Joel. 4 Non Blondes. And, of course, the Righteous Brothers. I can’t decide which of Tom’s compliments I liked best.

As I was dreadfully trying to sing along to Tony Bennett’s “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” he turned to me and said, “You know, you almost sounded like a real lounge singer just then.”

Or, as I was finishing Tammy Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man,” he said, “You sing bad enough to be a good country singer.”

Life is good.