seven up!

Last night at karaoke, I sang seven songs!!!
And I sand them all over a three-hour span of time!!!
Zoom zoom!!!
No, really! Usually, the biggest problem with doing karaoke is having to wait about an hour between singing the songs you gave the KJ (karaoke jock).
Seriously. Enough people want to sing that you have to wait your turn and that wait is, typically, at least 45 minutes, but more often an hour. I've sometimes had to wait even longer than that.
I know, it sounds like a really long time. But, let's do the math, shall we?
I insist.
Okay. Let's consider that most songs are about five minutes long. That should mean that you could get twelve singers per hour.
But that isn't correct. That doesn't include the time it takes for folks to come when called, to get to the stage, to get off the stage. So, in all honesty, about ten singers per hour is as much as is optimally possible.
If you're not dealing with sauntering drunks.
Which you usually are.
So... the actual number of singers in any sixty-minute period is eight. Usually.
Last night, I was able to get in a song about every twenty-five minutes... YES!
I truly enjoy singing! And here at Club One on Mondays and Tuesdays, the KJ was usually the partner of my retired swimmer friend, making it a friendly environment. On this particular Monday, however, I showed up with the peace Guy after he got off work and found that another KJ was standing in for her. But he was the very talented Stanley and he flat-out ruled at getting songs done!
I started my set with some German rock, "The Zoo." I was introduced to the Scorpions' music by my boyfriend, Mikey. He had come to Okinawa from Germany and had lots of new albums to broaden my horizons. This song was an easy way to start - and fun!
Then I sang "China Girl" for the effervescent JinHi. Yeah, i didn't do so well on the Bowie tune. Maybe I should have done "We Can Be Heroes" instead? Ah, well, spilled milk now.
Then more not-quite-right from me with "Bring Me To Life". Evanescence is awesome with this heartfelt song! I keep trying to do it, as it has meaning for me in my AD world. Notice that word: trying.
Better to go with a song I sometimes whistle in the university halls: Ozzy's (Flying High Again"! Lots of energy, fun lyrics! Nailed it!
Yeah! Love that rock and roll! Keep it comin'!
So I did. My fifth offering was some Led Zeppelin. Mind you, most of their songs have titles that hardly relate to the lyrics and the one I did, "Black Dog", is certainly one of those. But it's a classic and you'd recognize it instantly if you heard it!
By this time, I was ready to have a little fun, do something for the show-tunes crowd. A little "Hair", anyone? No, not really. That title track is a bit off-kilter to sing. Fine! So I did "Good Morning Starshine" - dooby ooby walla, dooby abba dabba, y'all!
By this time, it was almost closing time. Time for a duet with a sweet young man I'd been doing a little dancing with! Nothing like Sinatra's "New York, New York" to shake loose those last vocal chords!
What a fine evening!

And whaddaya know?
The peace Guy has even caught the karaoke flu!
He's been singing for about a month now, maybe a little longer.
My job here is done!
(smile!)

ATL-bound, man

Every time I leave
You say you won't be there.
And you're always there.
Every time I cry your name at night,
you pull close and say it's alright.
I look in your eyes, just like the rain.
Washing me, rain wash over me.
Touching your face, I feel the heat
of your heartbeat echo in my head like a scream.
What you do to me!
Waited so long I can't wait another day without you.
Jet City Woman.
It's a long way, home to my
Jet City Woman.
I see her face everywhere, can't get her out of my mind.
Whenever I'm alone I'm thinking,
there's a part missing from my life.
Wonder where I'd be without your love
holding me together now I'm
watching the time tick, tick away.
Face grows longer every day.
Fortunes are lost on the women I've seen
but without you I can't breathe.
You're the air to me!
Waited so long, I'm all alone thinking about you.
Jet City Woman.
Got to find my way home to her.
Jet City Woman.
I see her face everywhere I look!
Jet City Woman.
Just a thousand miles and I'll be there
Jet City Woman, to make the clouds go away.
Time for some blue sky!
Waited so long now the plane's delayed
and hour, reminds me of all our days apart.
Hold on, just a little longer.
Jet City Woman.
Wonder where I'd be, you're the air to me.
Jet City Woman.
Eyes like the rain, rain down on me
Jet City, Woman.
No more nights alone I'm almost home now.
Jet City Woman.
Close my eyes, I'm there in my Jet City.
--- written by Chris DeGarmo and Geoff Tate of Queensryche

I sang this at karaoke tonight. I and the peace Guy didn't actually make it home until the place closed, so the time is not quite true on this post, but that's okay.
We had both been at a going-away party for him earlier today. The party was a wonderful gathering of friends at a lovely condo overlooking the Bull River. Spectacular view! Excellent food! Lively conversation!
We even had a nice long dip in the saltwater pool to round out the evening, followed with more conversation and the opening of gifts and the reading of jokes on popsicle sticks.
It was quite a bittersweet time for both of us. Sweet to be with others who know and love him. So very sad that he is having to go away for his job.
We hardly got home before he was wanting to go for a nightcap.
I was ahead of him on that one, so he drove to the karaoke joint where The Lady sometimes struts her stuff.
I sang this song tonight. I needed to loose some intensity and "Jet City Woman" seemed entirely appropriate.
After all, he's moving to jet city.
I am so going to miss him.

off key

Last night, I did karaoke at a friend's housewarming party. I sang a tune that has become part of my repertoire at the American Legion, as it is always greeted with enthusiasm by the predominantly country music crowd. I'm known as the "Rock Star" by the KJ there, and I suspect the others regard me as such also.
AnyWHO, others were singing at my chef friend's gathering, and I was even singing along on "Seven Bridges Road". So, as others were requesting that the host pull up songs for them to sing, I did, too. You know, being part of the crowd, participating, right? I had wanted to share a fun song with them, so I requested "Squeeze Box", a song right in keeping with the double entendre tunes of the evening... and, oddly, no one but the host seemed to know it. So they didn't get it. And justthatfast, I realized: I was no longer part of this group. I had thought I was, but I was definitely mistaken. I might still have a link to the host, and maybe to Cassadi's mom, but that was it.
Once upon a time, I was seeing these folks once a week, sometimes more often. Then a friend died and we still tried to hang together, but it wasn't the same. The linchpin which had held me to this group had fallen away, and, as will happen, I drifted. The others were firmly linked and held fast.
Sure, in the three years since our friend's death, I've invited them to events in my new circles and I have occasionally traveled in their circles and been there to share some special events. The little girl's birthdays. A few dinners with the girl's mom. The chef's graduation. The odd karaoke night out at a local corral.
I'm not sure how I ended up on the chef's guest list for tonight. I'm not sure how I even ended up going. No, wait, I take that back. I went because I hadn't seen him since his graduation and I am only too aware of how quickly someone can leave this world for another too far distant.
I did not want this opportunity to be lost.
So I went, bearing gifts to please the palate and the ear: panforte margherita from Italy and tales of creating Italian cuisine for a lunch and a dinner in Siena. I also brought ajvar, a versatile roasted pepper concoction from a kickstarter chef.
I'll be curious to see what he fashions using that! Maybe I'll even merit a taste of any new creation... maybe?
Earlier, I had briefly attended the Bastille Day party of some other friends. I had lost track of them - rather, they had lost track of me - since the divorce. We had all met through the trivia evenings my ex had hosted fifteen years ago at Fink's Deli, an eatery long gone from Liberty and replaced by a pizza chain. So, maybe you could say they were more his friends than mine for the first year or so, but surely not any later than that.
After our marriage ended, I still was part of the group. Birthday parties and baptisms for the children. Pool parties of all types, whether saltwater or the regular every-other-Tuesday session with cue sticks and colorful balls. Barbeques and holiday gatherings.
Then, that was over. A misunderstanding about my presence at the Tuesday pool nights, "drinking beer with other women's husbands", led to a horrific rift. Apparently, they forgot who I was and thought I had become someone else. Not the guys. They knew I was the same person I had ever been, just "one of the boys", so to speak. But one of their wives forgot and false accusations were made. In an attempt to salvage some shred of a relationship with this woman and her family, I allowed myself to be banished from billiards. And, even though some made an effort to continue a friendship with me, all of the children played together and I, of course, had no children to be invited to parties.
Last year, that started to change a little. A birthday party for the son at a state park. News of the daughter's winning essay on being fearless. An invite to the post-production play for Operation Rescue at the church. And you better believe I went every time I was invited.
The Bastille Day party invite went out Friday evening and I didn't read it until yester morn... but I worked it into my schedule for the day. You better believe that! This had been one of the summer events I had loved, hanging out with the friends and their growing children, playing in the pool and the yard, waiting for the burgers and dogs to come off the grill. Oh, yes!
I was greeted as if I had never left their company. How wonderful! The dog even seemed to remember who I was, though I am sure it has been at least two years since I was there. The world traveler shared her pictures of Denmark, as well as the tales and food she had brought back. She also had frozen whiskey sours for all - very nice. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I already had the chef's party on my agenda.
Still, life is looking brighter for the renewal of those friendships. I will hope for constructing a new harmony with the world traveler and her family. I'm not sure whether the others may lend their voices; perhaps so.
After leaving the chef's condo, I felt the urge to go somewhere, somewhere... but where? The beach? The marshmallow roasting? The new square over the parking garage? I decided on karaoke, as I was sure I would know at least one person there: the zombie friend. He's the KJ at the "Best Karaoke" joint in town, as well as being a longtime friend. So, off I went, planning to maybe do a few tunes and find my voice.
But I never did sing. Rather, I never did sing on the stage. I had a pocket full of songs I like, I had others on my phone, but I found myself preferring to enjoy the mini-concerts of others. One I sang along with a couple of fellows nearby, all of us belting out "Build Me Up, Buttercup" and hamming it up. For some other tunes, I sang along and noted them for the Rock Star audience. Amazingly, some songs I didn't even know, like "Ol' Red". Now, that's a country song I might do one day!
All in all, a nice night in the company of zombie and others.
Maybe I'll go again tonight and actually sing... Hopefully, in key.

18 years

18 years. That's the time it takes to raise a child from infancy and send them out on their own into the big blue yonder. That's how long Sam Johnson was in my life. We met in 1991, with him being part, if not the ringleader, of the Underground Savannah posse that included my soon-to-be husband, Jeff. They, and Bobby Ruggiero and Andy Pena, had a friendship that was a brotherhood. It was tight. Even when they disagreed with something one of them did or said, it just didn't matter. They were a team, with an irreverent television show, the radio world, the Savannah nightlife and culture. I could tell these guys were in it for the duration, no one was getting out alive, I tell ya!

And so, now one of them has gotten out of this band of brothers from other mothers. Sam's big ol' heart, after enduring five years of dialysis, just gave out on him on Sunday. He'd had a great weekend, including zany fortune cookie messages. That's right, plural. His original fortune cookie told him: A nice cake is waiting for you. Of course, he led into the reading of it the usual way, slowly releasing the message, looking it over and announcing "Boom goes the dynamite!" "Yeah, right, what does it really say?" And with a puzzled look, he says "A nice cake is waiting for you." I laughed my self silly, even reading it myself and then laughing more. Whoever heard of such a thing??? He was so taken aback by the seemingly non-fortune that he requested a new cookie... and was graciously granted one after he told his tale. This second cookie told him "You have infinite wisdom and power." "Hey, man, that makes you a superhero!" That made him feel right as rain. I dropped him off at Steed's, then went home for the night.

Saturday, after almost seven hours in Beaufort with my terminally-ill daddy and his family, I came back to town and caught a nap before heading off to a retirement party for a colleague. Then, off I went to Steed's for some karaoke. Sam had called to say he took a cab there, but I had told him I would make sure he got home so he could hold on to his money. I had gone there that night intending to sing, but I just never did. I even had a list of songs in my car that I had planned to do.. but I didn't. I just absorbed the show. There was a birthday party going on for a husband of the Cumulus crowd, and they were a lively bunch. There were several of the regular Saturday night singers. Even Bob and his mom, also known to Sam as "Mom", were there for a rare visit from Midway. And Sam was on top of his game, handling all with his usual mix of aplomb and bravado. I totally enjoyed myself, even though I was just part of the audience this time around. I even snapped a fairly decent photograph (on my cellphone) of Sam with Bob and Mom when they were leaving. Apropos of absolutely nothing, I took the picture. I remember thinking, who knows when they'll all see each other again?

Finally, the end of the shift has arrived. Last call for alcohol, for songs, for hanging out at Steed's. Gina is about to fall over, her feet hurt so badly. She reminds Sam she had set aside a plate for him from the cookout earlier. She even saved him some cake. Pineapple upside-down cake. One of his favorites, one he had been thinking about lately. Nice cake. Using his phone, I took a shot of him with his "Nice cake", us grinning like fools about the in-joke. I even said to him, on the ride to his place in Garden City, that he should play those numbers on the back of that fortune. After all, how many fortune cookie messages are found to be true?? Yeah, that would be cool. So, at 2:30am, I drop him off at his place, with our "Love ya, girl" "Love you too, Sam" hanging in the air. I stay a moment, making sure he gets inside safely before I take my tired self home. And that was the last I saw of him. He tried at some point to forward the "Nice cake" picture from his cell to mine, but it didn't take. I figured I would have him resend it the next time we talked.

And now, he's to be buried on Saturday. 42 years old, gone already. So many future plans, all on hold now. He was very much looking forward to a family reunion in Orlando in December. He was even going to do the odious task of going through the big box of family photos his sister had and putting them in albums for the reunion. He was going to Dragon*Con again with myself and the Delongs. He was going to go through his blogs for the past five years and publish a book of the best of them, at the urging of his college professor, Dr. H. He was going to finish his paralegal degree from South University. He was going to do all these time-consuming projects and more... but time stopped for him.

I still don't believe he's really gone. I guess I'll have to accept it at Steed's when his hand isn't on the microphone, his voice isn't ringing through the speakers, his presence isn't all over the room.