Musings on Karaoke Etiquette and Drinking Company

Last night, after a farewell dinner party for a friend who is graduating and venturing off into the professorhood, I was talked into going out for some karaoke. Now, as most of you know, I love karaoke. However, I tend to limit my performances to those establishments that house private karoke rooms. Since I first started doing karaoke while I was living in Japan, I learned to appreciate the pleasures a good karaoke-box could provide. Indeed, in Tokyo the karaoke-boxes sometimes take up multiple floors of a building. You can rent out a private room at an hourly rate and they will even serve you food and drinks, which you can order from the handy-dandy phone inside your room.

I've always been more partial to this kind of karaoke environment. If I'm going to make an ass of myself, I'd rather do it in the company of good friends rather than complete strangers. But not only that--if I'm going to do karaoke, I want to have the chance to sing a fair number of songs. Public performance is not often conducive to this.

So, I felt a bit wary joining my pals last night at a public karoke venue. I did get a chance to sing two or three times, but overall felt the experience was not as fun as others I've had. In point of fact, I became deeply annoyed by what I considered to be a disgusting breach of karaoke etiquette on the part of the DJs.

Some might have a good laugh at the thought of karaoke etiquette. But I've come to realize that I actually have several strong feelings on this matter as a result of what I witness last night. My general thoughts are as follows:

1. The karaoke DJs running the show should not also insert themselves as participants! I mean, how ridiculous can you get? The two losers responsible for the karaoke set-up kept getting up and singing their crap-ass songs, thus taking away from opportunities for the audience to participate (which I thought was the entire purpose of the evening). I think these guys were under the impression that they were merely doing karaoke gigs until they make their big break on American Idol. Talk about delusional! Their song choices were revolting (one of them clearly felt he was the next Garth Brooks/Tim McGraw/random country dude) and their general presence annoying.
2. Know your bloody audience! This is a general principle of rhetoric that all MCs/public performers must get a handle on if they plan to continue in their chosen profession. For instance, if your audience keeps choosing songs of the funk, pop, and 80s variety, DO NOT KEEP PLAYING HORRID COUNTRY SONGS DURING INTERMISSION FOR FUCKSAKE! They don't want to hear it and will in fact be more likely to consider committing violent acts upon your person.
3. Hire a monkey if you are too incompetent to change CDs by yourself! I swear, there were two guys manning the karaoke sytem and they couldn't do this properly. In essence (and I watched this closely a couple of times), all they had to do was switch out the CDs and cue up the appropriate track for each new performance. Yet for some reason, DJ #2 could not manage this simple task without the support of DJ#1, who frequently felt the need to wander off on break to: a) get more beer, b) flirt with the barmaids, c) go to the bathroom every five minutes (presumably to whack off). So DJ #2, a mere flunky it would appear, just stood up there giving an air of activity while in effect doing nothing until DJ #1 returned from his ramblings.

Let's just say, as the evening wore on I moved from my initial moderate Woodchuck cider to hard liquor. It was the only way I could keep myself from throttling the loser DJs up on stage.

Which brings me to the second half of my personal meditations from the evening. Not to sound like a complete lush or anything, but I do miss the environs of a good Scottish pub.

The Brits know how to drink. And they have sadly ruined me for life. I can suck back pints with the best of them. But here in the USA it seems like I rarely find people who can keep up with me for a night of serious drinking. Okay, sure, I could find a frat boy with the IQ of a doornail who could chug them back and belch all night but that's not what I'm looking for.

When I lived in Scotland, pubbing was often something my fellow grad students and I did after a hard day of seminars. We would finish up around 4:00 and head over to the pub. We'd then settle in and share pints and chips while discussing everything from literary theory to politics to music, art, and so on. These were intelligent people and we would take a nice long leisurely trip down the road of inebriation while taking turns buying rounds for the table. Quite often it wouldn't be until close to midnight when we'd stumble out of the smoky interior of our pub and head home feeling intellectually sated and several sheets to the wind. I admit, an outing like this required a certain mental and physical stamina in order to keep up with the conversation and the many rounds of pints being shared. At first it was a little daunting even for me, but I quickly got the hang of it and was welcomed into the bosom arms of my British compatriots as one of their own. Honestly, perhaps it's inherent in my genetic makeup. After all, my dad's side of the family are all British (he was born there but his parents immigrated shortly after WWII).

Sadly, drinking culture in the USA is much less convivial. And when I'm in the mood for a long evening of pints and intellectual discussion, I find I'm without company to share. Not that my friends aren't intellectual--don't get me wrong--it's just that most of them don't have the stamina for drinking to accompany these kinds of discussions. Thus, I'm the only one drinking which is never fun. It reeks a little too much of alcoholism... I need it to be a group activity to fully enjoy it I suppose. So it seems I shall merely have to recall with great fondess my pub adventures in Edinburgh and hope that I get the chance to go back again some day if I want to spend a long day drinking good lager and munching on salty chips while discussing the finer points of feminist theory in a post-modern world.

Big Fantasy Geek Review--The Nightrunner Series!

Despite being mired in tiresome freshman comp papers, never-ending dissertation notes, and the filthy chaos of my hovel, I have nonetheless managed to while away a fair few hours re-reading one of my favorite fantasy series of recent years. As many of my gentle readers may have discerned by now, I have a particular penchant for boy-boy romances. I also possess a deep and abiding love for the fantasy genre. So what happens when you bring them both together? Sweet, sweet joy pour moi!

Lynn Flewelling's Nightrunner series has, to date, three books. She has stated in interviews that she does not consider it a trilogy and that she will most likely return to it once she comes up with a new story that needs to be told. The three books that she has written so far are fantastic. What is it that I enjoy about this series so much? Well, if I had to characterize it I would say that it is an alluring mix of Sherlock Holmes meets The Scarlet Pimpernel in a fantasy world setting.

The first book, Luck in the Shadows, introduces the main characters Seregil and Alec. Seregil is a cunning, mischievous, and sexy spy. When traveling incognito as a foppish bard, he ends up being put into prison by some baddies who have also locked up the young Alec of Kerry. A poor orphaned teenager (about 16 years old), Alec has been falsely imprisoned under charges of conspiracy and treason. He's been beaten and held without a chance to defend himself. And to make matters worse, it looks like he's going to be sold to some slavers. Well, as you might guess, the wiser and very talented Seregil manages to free himself from his bonds and decides to bust out of the prison, taking along Alec as well.

Soon Seregil decided to take Alec under his wing and teach him the tricks of his trade--namely, how to be a spy. The two form a fast friendship with one another that is founded on loyalty and trust. Of course, as the series progresses, their relationship becomes a little bit more tricky. Seregil is older than Alec, although he only looks to be in his early twenties because he's one of the Aurenfaie--a magical people who live for several centuries. While Seregil enjoys the company of both women and men, he definitely prefers the latter when it comes to romance. But he decides to keep his burgeoning feelings for his young partner to himself because he does not want to ruin their relationship or take advantage of Alec's trust.

Alec, on the other hand, doesn't quite know how to feel about the fact that Seregil enjoys the company of men in his bed. As the series progresses and the two are thrown into increasingly dangerous and turbulent missions, his feelings become more complex and he's forced to confront the fact that he loves his partner as more than a friend.

The romance between Seregil and Alec is very poignant and sweet (not smutty at all for those more conservative readers). And all the while you are rooting for them to find the happiness they both so desperately need with one another.

There is plenty of intrigue and excitement throughout the series, as well as some really lovely humor. Flewelling blends it all together with deft skill, managing to keep the reader on edge and waiting for more. Her subtle but compelling interrogation of gender and sexual issues really appealed to my sensibilities, while the story itself was entertaining, exciting, and fun.

I want another book in this series almost as badly as I want the final Harry Potter. And that's saying something!


Book Two Book Three

I'm Back!

I've made it back to Gainesville safe and sound, although I had a bit of difficulty along the way. When I left Monkey's parents' house it was a little overcast but otherwise fine outside, so I didn't anticipate that there would be any travel delays. Unfortunately, there were some pockets of thunderstorm activity over the south and as a consequence the airline informed us (just as we'd started boarding the plane I might add) that we were going to be delayed an hour. We waited around for about 20 minutes before the airline reps made a hasty announcement calling us all back to board immediately--they'd found an alternate air route and we were going to take it. So, we all scurried back to the gate and got on the plane. We'd made it to the runway when all of a sudden we stop. Completely. We're just sitting there waiting. And waiting. Finally the pilot tells us that air traffic control wants us to take yet another flying route, but this one is going to be a longer flight. Thus, those with connections in Charlotte, NC are probably going to miss their flights. And of course, the flight I was supposed to connect with was the last one out to Florida for the night. So they start turning the plane around to go back to the gate in order for those passengers with connections to get off so they can catch the first flight the next morning if they want.

At this point, I'm in a bit of quandry. Should I get off and call Monkey's folks to have them come pick me up? Being the moron that I am, I didn't actually have their home phone number on me. Just Monkey's cell, but by then she was already back out in Cali.

The pilot then comes over the airwaves once again to inform us that apparently all flights leaving the Manchester, NH airport the next day are booked solid all the way through late afternoon. Thus, we'd have to take a chance hanging aroudnd airport for standby seats. Not a fun prospect.

Finally, I decided to take a chance and continue on to Charlotte in the hopes of being able to make my flight. Sadly, luck was not on my side. I got off the plane and ran like a crazy lady to my connection gate but the plane had just left. Which means, I was stuck in Charlotte at 9:30 at night and the next flight home wasn't until 9:30am. And of course, the airline would not pay to put me up in a hotel because the delay was caused by weather. So I contemplated renting a car to drive home, but when I called my friend Joanna she talked me out of it. The drive would be at least six hours and I'm not much of a long distance driver. For some reason, cars knock me out. I start feeling sleepy after about two-three hours behind the wheel.

In the end I was able to get a room at one of the airport hotels at a discounted rate for interrupted travel, but it still cost $60. At present I have about $500 in my bank account and I won't get my first paycheck for summer teaching until almost the end of July. Talk about sucky! What was worse, actually, was the fact that I couldn't pick up my suitcase. The airport holds them overnight so they can send them on the first flight the following day if they didn't make the last connection. So I had to wear the same clothes (ugh) and I had no toothbrush or toothpaste (yuck!). The hotel people had some toothpaste packets but no brushes. So I had to make do with the finger brushing method. It helped somewhat. At least I didn't have to leave the next morning with completely fetid breath.

I made it back to Gainesville the next morning and just had time to grab lunch, a shower, and then head off to teach my class. I hope my students didn't think I was too weird, because I'm sure I was a bit loopy from all my traveling travails.

But at least the trip itself was fabulous! I had a great time at Monkey's sister's wedding. The ceremony was really beautiful and I admit that I got a bit misty eyed once or twice because Shweens looked so happy (not to mention absolutely gorgeous in her wedding sari). Afterwards, I made liberal use of the open bar and found myself quite pleasantly drunk well before dinner. During the cocktail hour I wandered around oohing and ahhing over the multitude of bright and beautiful saris as well as the all out blinginess of Indian jewelry. Monkey's earrings kept drawing my eye like I was some crazy human magpie honing in on the bright and shiny object in front of me. I think she was mightily amused and has promised to get me a similar pair on her next visit to India (yay!).

The dinner was so scrumptuous that I actually briefly fantasized about how great it would be to have two stomachs so I could do real justice to the buffet. Not only was the food delicious, but the majority of it was also vegetarian. Indian food is often a vegetarian's personal food heaven because there is so much variety and flavor. A lot of American veggie cuisine can run towards bland and boring.

It was really lovely being able to spend time with Monkey and her family again. I also met some of her extended family and they were all incredibly kind and welcoming to me. At home they also fed me all kinds of delicious food, including some regional Indian dishes I'd never had before. I really loved this because I can't get any decent Indian food here in Gainesville, so my tummy was doing the happy dance all weekend as I gorged on homemade cuisine.

Although I missed Shweens' mehndi party, one of her relatives is a graphic artist and she offered to create a henna design on my hand after the fact. It turned out beautifully but is now, sadly, starting to fade. But I will be looking forward to getting one again when Monkey gets married someday.