Monday, March 29, 2004

OKE DOKE
Karaoke -- the art of releasing your inner Frank Sinatra in the midst of a bar full of hostages -- now has a sibling. Say hello to the newest spawn of Satan, Movieoke. Now even if you cannot sing, you can still unleash your inner actor on others. Do you feel the need to reenact the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally, the audition scene from Flashdance, or the trial scene from a A Few Good Men? Well, now you're in luck.

Meanwhile, the rest of us have to make the gut-wrenching decision about what we love more: Our sanity or our beverage.

Although Karaoke ranks low on the list of my preferences for evening entertainment, I have sat through many an evening with friends listening to the parade of familiar sing-a-longs standbys. There are the obligatory country western Tunes, with "All My Ex's Live in Texas" leading the charge. There is the salute to Frank Sinatra; "New York, New York" is always popular, and at least one drunken atonal version of "Mack The Knife". There are of course, many, many more. The tough female rock tune (cue Pat Benatar), the pop ballad, the throwback to the 60s (Puff the Magic Dragon, anyone?) and the show tune you hoped you'd never hear again. They're all there, like a bad dream.

The kind, understanding half of me is glad there is this creative outlet for people to express themselves. The nasty, soprano-esque half of me would like to muzzle most of the participants, and stuff a sock in the kindly bar-patron sitting nearby who keeps asking me if I "wouldn't like to give it a try, because it's not so bad once you get started." They don't understand that for me to sing Karaoke is like asking a doctor to recreate a scene from ER after spending twelve hours in surgery. The thrill for me...she is gone.

As for Movieoke, I'm hoping this fad fizzles before we're subjected to great cinematic reenactments from Dumb and Dumber and Scooby Doo and the Mystery of Why They Keep Making Movies. If there are any silver screen reenactments, they had better include toast, rice, newspapers, squirtguns, toilet paper and a rousing chorus of The Time Warp.

I might even join in.
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