Sing, sing a song...

This is the singingest group of people I have hung out with in a long time. Which is cool, believe me. We hit a karaoke bar tonight. Well, not exactly a karaoke bar. It's a bar that had karaoke. Well, more like a dive that had karaoke. What the hell is it about Portsmouth, NH? There is no middle ground in this town. Everything is either colonial or ghetto. I cannot tell you how many tattoos, bad goatees, sideways baseball caps, and shorts long enough to be called highwaters I saw tonight. The reason I can't tell you is that I lost count. And yet, this was a bar that served no whiskey. I shit you not, gentle readers. If there was EVER a bar which should've served whiskey, which needed to serve whiskey, which gave every appearance of being a bar where one could walk in and get blotto on Wild Turkey, it was this bar. And yet, no whiskey. Lots of PBR, though. Which is more than likely why it was not a bar one could find whiskey.

I do believe my favorite moment of the evening came rather early, when we noticed a young man making eyes at Flo. (The group tonight consisted of everyone save Ted and Carol, as both of them are at home this weekend) He was on the other side of the room, and was staring intently at her, as if attempting to bore through her with her eyes until he made his way into the center of her being and took control, bending her to his bidding. Or he could've just been stoned, I'm not sure. But what made him so amusing, beside the name he gave the KJ--J Blue (how's that for fun?)--was his appearance. Baggy pants, camo hoodie, leather jacket, a do-rag (the kind tied in the FRONT) and a sideways baseball cap. The presence of the baseball cap, turned jauntily to the side, served to hide most of the do-rag, save for one of the ties, which hung down into his face. Ladies, believe me, if you were in the market for a guy that just screamed, "I enjoy smacking my bitch around to the sound of Eminem and long walks down dark alleys. I also have a passion for freebasing and mainlining," then this man had it going ON! He started the evening hanging by himself, but as the evening wore on, more and more of his cronies (I believe the technical term is "posse") began filtering in, being greeted with backslapping man-hugs. He was the most stylishly dressed of the bunch. I am convinced that beings such as this hang out in large groups in order to confuse natural selection. If they stayed on their own, they'd be culled from the herd rather quickly, but when they gather in a mini-herd, then they have a greater rate of survival.

It was, all told, quite the evening. Alice's parents came by to see her this weekend, so they came out with us, and they seemed to have a good time, save for the few times some song that was a thinly veiled call for suicide came on. I will never understand why people who go to karaoke cannot understand one very simple fact--it is a performance. There is an audience. It's a bar full of drunk people who want to have a good time. Singing a speed metal/death metal song about how screwed we all are and how we should all just give into the inevitable downfall of society is not what a crowded bar wants to listen to on a Sunday night. They want to hear "Margaritaville". So save the Pantera for Rock Band when you and the rest of your cynical rebellious individualistic just like everyone else group gets together to bemoan the commercialism and empty soul of modern society and eat Doritos. There was also a rather inebriated black lady there named Ollegra. (No, I am not making that up) She was what could politely be called a barfly. She was what could impolitely be called a drunk skank. And I say that with all the love in my heart. To be honest, I doubt that would've upset her. I believe she would more than likely have asked for it to be screen printed on a T-shirt. Or tattooed on her tits. But it was very enjoyable. People watching is a wonderful way to pass the time as you're waiting for the KJ to get back around to your song which he puts in wrong resulting in you having to sing the slow version of Suspicious Minds even though you definitely gave him the Aloha from hawaii version's number which would've been a much bigger crowd pleaser but what can you do because the guy obviously didn't get into this business due to his keen intellect. Flo had a lot of attention, as one of the other singers, a guy in a white shirt, sideways baseball cap (they do realize those brims are there for a reason, right?) and a soul patch rubbed up against her during one song. Now, as we all know, that is a long and storied mating ritual, and shows a great amount of affection, since the man is basically attempting to mark the woman with his scent and you don't want to just run around scenting things will-nilly. Flo, however, was not responsive to being so approached, so the random rubber rumbled off into the ether. A very nice young man who I'll call Chuck even though his name is Josh, came over and complimented Alice after she sang "Don't Get Around Much Anymore". He stayed until we left, hitting on her with all the subtlety of a four car pileup. It seemed to be working, however. Not enough for her to stay when we left, but well enough that she didn't kick him somewhere sensitive. Flo sang Janis Joplin and Bonnie Tyler, Schneider entertained us all with 2 rap songs of varying degrees of lasciviousness, Alice sang the Shoop Shoop Song and Nat King Cole, and I did two Elvis songs and ended the evening with Bon Jovi, because I understand my audience. Hey, say what you will, but I'm a professional.... Levitt and Bob did not sing, but rather drank in support of us. I was the designated driver, so did not imbibe, and as any of you who know me know, i don't need alcohol to make a complete ass of myself in public, so I at least saved money. I may be old, but thank goodness my hips are still limber enough to earn me free soda. (It's not what it sounds like, I swear...)

So we have another day off tomorrow--Yay for the presidents!Then a show on Tuesday in NH, then we start heading south--first to PA, then down to FL, and then the driving gets underway in a serious way. I really am enjoying the show--it helps that everyone in the show is enjoying it as well, and looking upon it as something worth doing. Please, pleasepleasePLEASE, I beg of any of you reading this who are actors, don't get involved in children's theatre unless you're willing to take it as seriously as the other work you do. This is a soapbox of mine, I understand, and I know I may be a little annoying with this, but just because your audience can't vote (or in some cases tie their shoes) doesn't mean that you don't owe them a good show. And it doesn't mean that the material is beneath you. I know there are hierarchies in theatre--in all the performing arts, and I understand that for many, if not all, actors, children's theatre occupies a place just slightly above mime and ventriloquism (not necessarily in that order) but...ah hell, I'm just rambling so I have something to type in order to make this cataloging of karaoke cavorting sound deep. And most of you who read this know me from doing children's theatre with me, or at least being forced to watch me do it, so really, I don't have to reiterate my feelings about it to you.  So anyway, another day off tomorrow, then off to the southern climes. If I'm in the area around ny of you, wherever you may be, come on by and see the show. I think you'll like it Where else can you see dismemberment, madness, hallucinations, tampering with life and death and a talking frog all before noon? Who says THAT'S not art???