Ten Years in an Empty Orchestra Pit: A Relatively Sympathetic Observer's Guide to Karaoke--Pt. III

The bad KJs--and there are many--are poorly organized, can barely operate the equipment, and regularly string together a succession of tedious ballads. As a rule of thumb, avoid karaoke bars where 1) the KJ's picture is posted by the door (he's not supposed to be the star; you are); 2) the KJ thinks she's a comedian (come on, how much talent does it take to make fun of karaoke singers?); 3) the KJ insists on sharing informative tidbits about every song (thanks for the brain food, Casey Kasem, but we really don't care who first recorded "Jungle Boogie"); or 4) the KJ wears an Elvis costume. It's probably also a good idea to hit the road whenever the KJ is reduced to making smirking references about the phallic qualities of the microphone.

Ever had one of those experiences that convinced you that 1) there is a God, and 2) He's got it in for you? After flying all the way from California, I was in East Windsor, Connecticut, one frigid February night when my wife asked if I was up for an evening of karaoke. Forgetting that it is always best to say "hell, no" when you mean "hell, no", I responded that the only way I'd even consider it would be if there was a karaoke bar directly across the street from our motel. Naturally, there was (thanks, Big Guy). So I traded a few hours of much needed sleep for the pleasures of the "Kenny Allen Show", a sad little gathering that took place in an undersized bar with an over-age clientele, most of whom were probably convinced that music died with Elvis (his birth, not his passing). Mr. Allen, a real-life version of Bill Murray's Saturday Night Live lounge lizard (minus the charm), started out by butchering his first song, insisting on a Mulligan, and then treating the crowd to Tom Jones' "Delilah", which is about a guy who kills his girlfriend for cheating on him. Sadly, that little ode to domestic violence was the highlight of the evening, because then the Geritol generation took over and everyone partied like it was 1949.

When all else fails, some bars attempt to draw a crowd by holding karaoke contests, giving out prize money or some sort of gift to the