I Tried to Be Cool but *Didn’t* Look Like a Fool

First things first, wishing all my American followers (apparently now “subscribers” – WTF WordPress?) a very happy Thanksgiving. I know, no obligatory Thanksgiving post here, but if you want you can refer to the list I made for National Gratitude Day because it’s definitely applicable!

With that out of the way, I’m sure any of you who listened to the radio in the Early-2000s got the reference in the title of this post right away. If you didn’t, well, let’s just say you’ve been living under a rock all these years.

So last night my wonderful companion (who I am *very* thankful for, I should re-iterate!) checked out a new bar in hopes of finding another karaoke venue as one of our stand-by venues definitely seems to be on its last leg (I give it until spring/summer of next year honestly – the place is dying rapidly). What we stumbled upon was this small little hole-in-the-wall bar in the middle of a strip mall with a couple of ethnic restaurants and a nail salon next door (of all things). What we walked into was a cozy bar with a tavern-like feel to it. More details to come soon on Texas Bite & Sip.

When we arrived the bar was pretty empty, and my companion and I did our first two songs of the night in pretty rapid succession (a double shot of Alice in Chains, followed by some Pearl Jam for her and The Church for me), after which the bar filled very rapidly and the queue for karaoke quickly mushroomed to like 16 people (not including those just there to watch their friends). Needless to say it got loud and packed in there.

After about a 50-ish minute wait, the list finally cycled back to us. Laina went right before me with one of her stand-by songs – TFF’s “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” (ProTip: if you’re singing to the Sound Choice or Sunfly versions of EWTRTW, ask the KJ to drop it a half-step if you want to sing it in the original key – the karaoke covers are a half step higher), and then I just had to complicate things (LOL!) and gender bend right after.

I was a little worried about looking like a fool (again, LOL!) as none of the male performers had gender bent yet that night, so I was nervous as to how that was going to be received. Alas, my worries were nearly instantly abated. As soon as that opening D-minor chord played and I did the little speak-sing opening “uh-huh, life’s like this” line the crowd went absolutely nuts – in a *good* way. By the time I got to the first verse the entire crowd was singing with me so loudly I couldn’t even hear myself in the PA so I wasn’t even sure if I was on key or not. I guess I did a decent job though, because I got some of the strongest applause during the time we were there.

We stayed and did one more song together – Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain” – one of our signature duets. We weren’t sure how that would be received by the younger crowd but there were a few who were jamming to it and we got some faint applause and fistbumps as we left the bar.

Again, I’m writing new code little by little. Each time something like this happens a little bit of the pain from what happened to me all those years ago goes away. It’s a process for sure, and I’m nowhere near done repairing the damage, but little gifts like that go a long way.

And yes, in the spirit of today, I’m very thankful for experiences like that as they continue to heal my wounded soul. I know I’ve needed this for a very long time. If anyone who was at Who’s Who Cocktails in San Antonio on the night of Wednesday 11/22/2023 around 10PM is reading this, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. You can’t come close to imagining the magnitude of what you did to heal me last night. You might have just been singing along to a super-catchy song (and maybe a little bit of surprise and novelty factor seeing a guy singing Avril Lavigne!) in your mind, but for me it goes way, way deeper.

Anyway, time to go tend to some sprouts and some chicken pho I’ve been simmering in the slow cooker overnight (we’re very non-traditional here), so over and out. Have a great Thanksgiving, or just a great day, depending on where you’re at in the world.

“Who Has the Bigger Balls?”

So last night was rather…interesting.

It’s obviously a holiday week – the college campus I do chef-y things at is thin with people, sales are slow at both the main campus cafe and the satellite sandwich shop, and our favorite karaoke bar (Texas Bite & Sip Review here!) had a rather different crowd last night. We didn’t see many of the “regulars” (except for one Latino guy who’s there every Monday and is super cool, and one of the other KJs who often just comes to sing on his off days) but the bar was unusually busy for a Monday. Nonetheless, after both Laina and I had rough work days, we needed to blow off some steam so we proceeded.

We both had our fun, and the Latino guy struck up convos with both of us per usual (super nice guy!) and we bantered for a bit, and one of the other semi-regulars who doesn’t often show on Monday actually chatted with me for awhile after my performance of Gordon Lightfoot’s classic “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” (ProTip: the song sounds *MUCH* better and is much easier to sing in Bb as opposed to the original key of B; if the KJ’s software will support it tick it down that half-step). I had some technical difficulties early in the song which shook me for a few seconds (screen blanked twice early, the standard corded mic was cutting out so I had to switch over to the cordless which luckily had been left out on the neighboring table) but I recovered well enough to finish strong, and he paid me some high compliments.

The rest of the session went without difficulty, and Laina and I concluded with one of our “signature” duets (“The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac), picked up our things and started to head out out of the bar when some old, gray-haired, drunken, judgmental jackass just had to make a snide remark about how I was dressed – telling me to “get some pants.” Keep in mind that we’ve gone to this same bar sporadically since July and regularly since September and have not once had an issue, despite a sign at the door saying “appropriate attire required” and me wearing the exact same pair of dark-washed “Davy” Dukes I think every single time I’ve been in there (actually I was in the exact same outfit as the headline pic last night!), so we figure this guy was probably an out-of-towner who we’ve never seen before and will likely never see again.

Sure, this guy thinks he’s so tough being a jerk and all, but who has the bigger balls? I got up in front of a semi-crowded bar (and an actual karaoke bar at that, where the pressure is a little higher than just a bar that has karaoke nights) and sang a total of 5 songs last night, including the duet, all while still trying to process the trauma of “the incident” from 11 years ago. This asshole didn’t even have the balls to get up on stage and grab the microphone a single time, and I can guarantee you he’s never been booed off of a karaoke stage because it’s unlikely he’s ever gotten up on one! I think we call someone like him a “bully” in our language.

Yeah, some tough guy indeed. Oh well, I won’t let him ruin my experience. I won’t change who I am, how I express myself, or dim my inner light to placate what seems to be his own insecurity (as Laina would say “sorry about your penis”). I will continue being me, dressing how I do, getting up and singing my songs. Every other person in that bar has been nothing but supportive and not one other person has ever had a complaint about my attire so he can just scurry along back to where he came from.

Oh well. In a way I feel sorry for the dude. His life must really suck if he feels the need to pick on someone like that. I picture him as an old, bitter divorced guy (who would blame the ex-wife who had him for a husband?) with not much going for him in this life.

Alas, it’s not my problem. While he’s sucking at life, I’m about to go tackle my “functional Friday” and sing to myself in my truck and maybe get some practice in on downtime.

Until next time, WordPressers!

Last Night Was Brought to You By…

…the letters P, T, S, and D.

(Sorry Laina, had to steal that one from you! You know I love you. ;-)).

Last night marked exactly five months back into the karaoke game. I thought everything was peachy. I sing at two venues regularly now, and have been without incident. I’m slowly learning that life is okay (yes, I did that song about a month ago to an empty bar, if you ask nicely enough I’ll share a snippet of my attempt!) and that I’m totally safe singing here.

Alas, last night was different. The crowd and the vibe were different. Instead of trends such as 90s alternative and soft rock which usually are the case, it was almost all country all the time, and there was a group of 5 there who aren’t there very much.

Making matters worse, that group very much resembled the group that booed me 11 years ago in terms of their appearance, attire (redneck/cowboy) and drink choices (cheap piss water beer).

AND they just happened to be sitting right below the monitor, in plain view. I couldn’t position myself such that they would be out of my line of sight.

It was a perfect storm. I made it through my first song okay, because I had one of the regulars there (who is always nice and supportive)  in my peripheral vision that I could use as an anchor to keep me grounded. Alas, he only ever does two songs and leaves, so when he left I no longer had that anchor to hold to.

I was done. I broke out into a heavy sweat, my heart raced, I got shaky and lightheaded and had heartburn. It didn’t know what hit me, but damn did it suck. I wound up having to skip my turn and try to feel better enough just to drive home, because I thought I would have to leave.

Alas, redneck central left before the rotation cycled back to Laina and then subsequently me. I immediately felt more relaxed again, and it was not too long after I put together what had happened to me to cause those mysterious symptoms…

…I had just had a flashback. WTF?!?!? You mean to tell me I have actual bona-fide PTSD over what happened to me?

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would have developed PTSD as a result of being booed off of a stage. Alas, the conditions were right with the music choices and the crowd to trigger that response. I realized at that moment that the hurt I sustained as a result of the incident went much deeper than I ever imagined.

Fortunately, I recovered enough after they left to get back on stage and do two more songs. I definitely was not at my best as I was still in recovery mode, and I was off-time and off-key for most of both of them, but the crowd and the KJ (the latter of whom I apologized profusely to for what had happened, and explained the what and why) both seemed very forgiving and I was *not* rejected in any way.

I don’t write this for pity or sympathy. I write this to demonstrate that 1) PTSD is a very real condition and not at all a sign of weakness or simply being overly sensitive, and 2) bullying at any age (let’s face it, when you boo someone, and especially an amateur, that’s being a bully) genuinely hurts people, and the ramifications can be far-reaching. I so wish I could find those cuntbuckets (forgive my use of the term, but I feel it’s justified) and let them know just how deeply impacted my life has been as a result of the choice they made to say “Boo! You suck! Get off the stage!”

Alas, they say there’s always a silver lining, and I can potentially see one here. I know I can’t be the only one out there who has been booed off of a karaoke stage. I imagine way more than one person has had their love of a wonderful outlet dashed by a couple of drunk assholes. Out of the ashes of such a tragedy arises a vision for a potential second business for me – owning my own karaoke bar featuring select gluten-free beers, ciders, and spirits, some small (dedicated GF) bites, and the latest and greatest in karaoke hosting technology. Above all, it would be billed as a safe space for singers of all ability levels from tone-deaf to professional, and a strict “no heckling” policy would be implemented and strongly enforced. Any and all hecklers would have their bar tabs immediately closed out with an auto-grat applied (so the bartenders don’t get fucked), shown the door, and asked never to return.

It’s possible I could help heal someone else. If the opportunity presents itself, I’d love to be able to pay it forward as it were.

Alas, I can only hope someone out there reads this and it helps someone. To the hurting: I wish you healing. To those who would heckle someone: I hope you think twice. Karaoke singers are just there to have a good time, and nothing ruins a good time like the letters B, O, and O because the next time might indeed be brought to them by the letters P, T, S, and D.

Well, back to work for me. I have to go do more chef-y things. Over and out!