Thursday, May 9, 2013


view from the car

A few weeks ago we took a road trip to visit Wade’s family in Iowa.  He’s from a really small town, less than 1,000 people!  Being from a bigger city, I always had romantic notions of growing up in a small town.  I envisioned it to be like Star’s Hollow from Gilmore Girls.  Everyone knew your name, and there was always some fun town event going on.  Wade’s town does have the annual Sweet Corn Festival, but I’m happy where I am for now.  I need my Target close by. 
It was his brother’s birthday, so we all loaded up in the family RV (the only cool way to cruise around town) and hit some local bars.  And who do we run into?  The Dos Equis guy! 
I know he looks real, but unfortunately he was just a cardboard cutout:)

So at one of the places we went it was karaoke night.  Am I a good singer?  No, not at all.  Not even a little bit.  Did I feel the need to get up and sing a song despite my best judgment?  You betcha.  I always promise myself in these situations that I will not fall prey to the allure of getting on stage and belting out an 80s rock ballad.  I tell myself that it is not as easy as it looks, and I will not sound pretty good with the music.
Alas, my rational side fell by the wayside, and I took to the stage.  Now I was smarter this time, because I forced Wade to come up with me.  If ever you find yourself in this same situation, learn from my experience.
 Within 5 seconds you will think to yourself that there are few things worse than the realization that everyone is staring at you make a fool of yourself, but there is nothing you can do since it would be worse to just walk off and not finish the song.  So try not to make eye contact with anybody and just pray that this is a shorter version of the song. 
When it’s finally over, you may think it's over, but there is still one last bit of humiliation left.  You may find that when you walk to the table where your group is sitting, no one says good job or gives you a high five.  That, my friends, is something you file away to save for the next time there is an “opportunity” to sing karaoke.  Have another drink, though, and the embarrassment will start to subside.  Then you can scoff at the next person singing and think to yourself how terrible they are and that you were way better than them.  That is called self-preservation.
What my brother-in-law wore that night.  Of course, Wade had to try it on first to make sure it worked.

On the way home, we enjoyed a time honored tradition that my mom started on family road trips.  A stop at Dairy Queen.  Nothing like a frozen treat to finish a fun-filled weekend.

Any karaoke experiences you’d like to share?  I’d love to hear them to make me feel better about mine.  Sound off in the comments below!

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