There are two venues where I get up and present myself in public. They are the open mike (I know everybody spells it mic because it’s short for microphone, but the way I see it it rhymes with spike and like so it should be mike. You don’t write bike as bic. I don’t care that it’s the same as the common shortening of Michael. That just gives the spelling more character. Anyway, I know I’m in the minority on this and will eventually have to bow to reality but, for now, I’m holding my ground) poetry readings and karaoke.
Last night, actually just about 5 minutes ago, I had a dream which combined the two. It was in a large auditorium. As I took the stage, I realized I didn’t have anything prepared but that was my plan. This time, I was going to improvise. I’ve thought about doing that at the open mikes but never quite had the courage. Also, that’s my place to present my poetry, what I’ve written, so it would be counter-productive. I’ve only ever seen one person do it at Karaoke, that was Bubu, and he’s probably about the only person who could pull it off. I forget what the song was but he just made up his own words as he went along. I thought it was rather brilliant but the crowd didn’t really go for it. Stupid crowd.
Anyway, in the dream I bombed, too. I didn’t freeze, I came up with some lines, sung in a basic bluesy rhythm. They weren’t great, but they were coherent and not overly repetitive. The crowd sucked. Somebody turned on a TV and when I did a walk into the crowd bit, they were all just talking among themselves. I lost them completely.
Tonight (August 21st, I’m behind again) is the closing party of the Blind Eye, where they’ve had Monday night Karaoke for the last 5 or 6 years. I only went a few times, their schedule didn’t really fit mine. The karaoke never started until about 11 and I just don’t stay up that late any more. It was always good, though. Every time I went, I saw people I knew. The Blind Eye was a big part of the whole expat scene. It will be missed.
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