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101 in 1001
American Road Trip, 1998


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2001-02-04 - 12:05 a.m.

Karaoke

Brunswick Lanes, Bradley Beach. "If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad."???? Um, yes, it can, if you can't sing. It's horrible. Horrendous. Especially when you try to sing like Sheryl. At least I know karaoke wasn't made for me, and I don't try to force it on others.

My one and only karaoke experience came last summer in Seattle when I was pulled up on stage with five other guys and a girl to sing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." I kept to the back and tried to direct my voice away from the microphone, to spare the other customers. It was like "Fight Club": The first rule of Fight Club is if this is your first time at Fight Club, you must fight. If this is your first time at karaoke, you must sing. So I got it out of the way, and then spent the night drinking and watching the others.

And the best thing about karaoke were the women who could sing who got up there and did sexy, sultry numbers in their own voices, not trying to imitate the singer on the original recording.

The best was a young woman, probably about 24, 25, wearing khakis, a white t-shirt that revealed her navel, and a sweater. Her brown hair was tied back in a haphazard pony tail and she wore glasses: something of a librarian fantasy comes to mind. She had a beautiful voice and sang "Killing Me Softly" without trying to jazz it up too much. There was no need, her voice was enough. And I was good for the night.

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