There are few times in my life when I am totally, completely, blissfully happy. Last night was one of them. I was supposed to come home by 10:30 last night. I got home by midnight. I’ll bet my students would be shocked to know I actually have a nightlife – and on school nights, at that!
I love to sing. I love to sing many types of songs, from country to musicals, rock to pop, R & B, etc. I love being with other people who love to sing, too – they’re my theater peeps from the summer musical I was just in – and we’ve even begun singing duets together. This week Dan and I swapped songs so that we could sing each other’s duets: he learned “Come What May” from Moulin Rouge for me, and I learned “Suddenly Seymour” from Little Shop of Horrors for him. We totally rocked them both.
I love coming out to Coop’s Den. After about 5 more times in a row, I think I’ll officially be a “regular.” I like the atmosphere — it’s fairly quiet; we’re really the only crowd, and we have the karaoke mostly to ourselves. Also, the place is cozy, with pleasant staff and casual appearance. An added plus is that it’s not a sports bar, so I don’t have to wait around an extra hour or two because the football game just went into overtime. Plus. . . the DJ is awesome, and we have a nice fat book of songs to choose from (although the most recent options are probably 5 or so years old).
I sang my heart out last night. Tried some new songs: “I Might Hate Myself in the Morning” by Lee Ann Womack “Memory” from Cats, “Goodnight My Someone” from Music Man, “Unbreak My Heart” by Toni Braxton, and my two duets that I mentioned earlier. And I closed with one of my best: “Love Is A Battlefield” by Pat Benatar. Last night we had some new ladies in the crowd who claimed to have never done karaoke before and boogied like crazy to all of the fast songs. The crowd really seemed to enjoy my closer, but by that time we’d all had some drinks and were feelings pretty good.
I love the feeling of being up there singing, then trying to learn a new song, and later seat-singing and swaying to the classics that my fellow warblers warble. And everyone in our group is a good singer, so there’s no need to cover up. It’s hard to leave when you’re having such a good time, and there’s that one more song you want to try. Yesterday I decided to just start at the beginning of the book, looking for songs I thought I could handle, and ending up somewhere in the “C”s or “D”s. I’m not sure. And people say that I’m good. Maybe I’m starved for compliments or attention or appreciation, or who knows what, but I tell you, there is nothing like the genuine feeling that your work/your art is appreciated.
So, am I tired now? Yes. Wednesdays are awfully, awfully, long and somewhat painful days — I just now finished off most of my last pint of frozen custard — and losing sleep does not really help the situation. But was it worth it? I sure thought so last night! My late night serenading is something I’ve come to look forward to all week long, and I think I’ve finally found an addiction that could actually improve my life.
And driving home, I was already thinking about what I was going to sing next week. . . .