Karaoke.
I hear that it is very popular in Japan. I hear that it is very popular in some grotty English pubs that take pride in flying St.George's cross flags and fighting after a Stella fuelled night. I remember that universuity friends used to struggle to control their bladders at the thought of butchering Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsidy' in front of a sweat slicked crowd of students at the Union Bar. For some reason it never really held much of an appeal to me. Perhaps I was too shy... and perhaps I didn't want to make a complete fool of myself when my voice croaked over the chord change. I knew my limits... and I had standards!
I think that there are two categories of karaoke singer:
1. Those who see it as one big joke and an excuse to show off their ability to sing out of tune after three pints of cider, two tequilas, half a glass of someone else's Jack Daniels and coke and a handfull of someone else's chips. When doing a duet it is expected of you to be at one with the microphone so that it is pressed into your tonsils and to yell over your companion's attempt at drunken harmony.
2. Those who take it seriously. When you take that mic you are going to show the crowd how it is done and nothing but a standing ovation will do. Careful eyebrow manoevers and microphone handling can be employed to master the effect. "Thank you, thank you....."
Don't you love how scepotical I am?! In reality I would love to be able to master either of these approaches. So you can imagine the surprise I had when I was in the villa on Friday. Don had decided to work from home, setting his laptop up on the breakfast table. I was working on my blog in the study when I heard a great little number being blasted out from the surround sound system upstairs. I climbed up there to grab my notebook from my room and on reaching the galleried sitting room I stopped dead... Don was holding a microphone and was singing! It was his voice I could hear! Clearly he falls into 'Karaoke Category #2'... but without the arrogance I would have associated. I sat and listened for a while as he went through country tracks, some Roy Orbison, Elvis, etc.... and shunned the microphone when it was pointed at me.
Oh no. There was no escape. It was expected that I should sing as well... and I have to admit that I got a little excited. Then I found the classic tune... the memories.... how many times have I dance around my father's kitchen with Katy McMullen, after a great night out, to this... 'Proud Mary' by Ike and Tina Turner! There was no stopping me. Don had gone back downstairs and I was ready to hit the "rollin', rollin'" notes. It all started off so well, a note of support coming from Don downstairs... perhaps I could be an arrogant, eyebrow popping karaoke singer after all? And then the tempo picked up and the pitch changed... my voice croaked and strained over the notes and of course I released the occasional embarrassed "Oh dear" in a true British apologetic fashion. Lets forget about that little moment shall we?
"WHAT?!!! HE DIDN'T?! YOU DIDN'T?!!! THEY ALL....?!!!!" I said when I realised that my angelic rendition had not stayed between the walls of the villa.
I was a little surprised when Mark returned home and said very casually "Great singing!". So the story goes that Don had called Mark while I was doing my 'Proud Mary' routine who had in turn recorded it and played it out to his entire US Bank broker network! Over the whole of the US! There were several responses apparently, including one that was something along the lines of "Those Brits always need a helping hand from us don't they!" . This means war......
But oh.... this was not the only memorable event of the day, for this is the day when the swimming pool was completed. For two whole years Don and Mark have had a rough concrete pit open in the middle of their backyard, filled with debris and dirt. In heavy rains the pit would fill and turn into a putrid, mosquito-infested swamp that only the two dogs were happy to swill in. Why? Because once the initial excavation and rendering had been completed the boys decided their money would be more wisely directed towards holidays in South America and Hawaii! I suspect that the more they walked outside onto the terrace to be greated by a filthy, festering vortex the more they needed another holiday!
The wait is finally over. A small bus load of Mexicans in round straw hats, white t-shirts and curious flip-flops with metal stilts underneath were unloaded into the pit and the makeover was completed. We watched from the first floor terrace as they swarmed over the concrete surfaces of the pool and the jacuzzi, one of them spraying the white plaster rendering over the walls with a large hose, the others smoothing the plaster off as it set. It was amazing how they managed to complete the process within a few hours, so that by 6pm the tiles around the top of the walls were being wiped down and the hoses were in. Ta-dah!
Of course the children in the group, Don and I, were straight in to get a feel for the empty space, the dogs leaping down with their dusty red paws. I had a head rush from the sensation of being in an empty pool and decided that it wastime for a cocktail to celebrate....
...sangria will do!
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