After emceeing the Jewbilation concert on the Sunday night of the JTB2 conference weekend, I realized that that had been my first time at the mic in a long time...and that 90 percent of the previous times had been for karaoke. But Sunday night, I didn't sing. And my attempts at spoken word? Well, they could have used some work, I'll admit. What I needed was to get back to my karaoke roots.
Since one of my NYC karaoke buddies moved to LA, and another one of my LA pals had recently discovered a penchant for that particular mode of self-expression, we all knew what we had to do. So off to the Brass Monkey we went, where every night is karaoke night, no one but you will sing for the first hour and most of the drink names have either "monkey" or "banana" in it (People's Exhibit A).
My first song was "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." Things went well. I sat down again and someone else sang some song that had him winking at me during his performance...then after, he approached" "Damn, girl...why you have to look so good? I got a pacemaker, you know..." I chuckled good-naturedly and he kept walking.
Later saw renditions of "Sweet Child of Mine," on which I sang with Annabel Lee, and then I busted out Young MC's "Bust a Move." I figure it's always entertaining when the whitest Jewish chick around tries to bust the fastest pre-Eminem, slightly lecherous rhymes 80s pop-rap style. (Boy, I'm pretty sure my parents have NO idea what that last paragraph meant.) Anyway, on conclusion, my "pacemaker" friend approached again:
PACEMAKER: Where'd you learn to do that? I'm a black Jew and I can't do that!
ESTHER: [Laughs good-naturedly]
PACEMAKER: [suddenly shouting] Gimme that hair! [Grabs ESTHER's head in both his hands, and plants a big wet kiss on her right temple.]
By that point, other people were singing...but I did have time for one more: "Criminal" was good, if a little dark to end on--I just hope that with all those proclamations of bad behavior in the song, there weren't any lawyers in the audience. But it was late, and I had to drive (yes, DRIVE) home, so we called it a night. So I grabbed Pacemaker and we left.
Um, yes. Of course that last sentence was a joke...jeez.
And sorry for not listing all of AL's and Joel's songs, but my memory's shot. Now, I'm off to do--oh, crap. I don't remember.