Participation Ribbon

Do elementary schools still have Field Day? In the small coastal town where I grew up Field Day was on the last day of school. It was my favorite day of the year for two reasons: the obvious reason 1) it was the last day of school, and the surprising reason, 2) the special brown bag lunch. Mom would take us to the grocery store where we could pick out a can of soda that she would wrap in aluminum foil to keep it cold and she made our sandwich with the thin deli style sliced meat instead of regular bologna. I think we also got potato chips and a twinkie or some other delightful treat.

The winners of the 3-legged race, the potato sack run, tug of war, the egg toss and whatever other games I'm forgetting would win the coveted blue ribbon. Then there was the red ribbon and after that was the participation ribbon. You showed up and were a good sport and played the games. The games were fun, you were fun and without you the other team wouldn't have had anyone to beat so your participation was vital. For getting your behind throttled by your fellow 7 year old classmates you received a ribbon for showing up and being kind enough to come in 3rd or 4th place.

Last night I received the adult equivalent to the participation award: the Brave award. It wasn't a physical ribbon or metal trophy (thank God - I don't need a physical reminder of my bravery, the memory will do just fine, thanks).

Our friend Tyler had a birthday on Thursday. We celebrated last night with some homemade desserts by his wife Katie: a flourless chocolate cake and eclairs. D-e-c-a-d-e-n-t. After we ate birthday dessert we headed off to the Maple Leaf Chinese Restaurant; not for Chinese food, although I did order a side of barbecue pork with hot mustard that got me many, many times. We did not come for the drinks in the lounge, although I did have a White Russian and annoyed the waitress with my blank stare when she asked me what kind of vodka I wanted my drink mixed with. I dunno. She rattled off a bunch of labels and my blank stare persisted and I said, "House?" She seemed annoyed.

I decided I didn't like her.

As I slurped my White Russian I nervously looked at the big white binders on the tables in the lounge that people were thumbing through. Tyler was very carefully studying the song sheets.

Yes. We were there to karaoke.

After I ate the barbecue pork and drank the White Russian I was still nervous. Not quite ready to grab a slip of paper and put a song down that I wanted to sing I ordered a Lemon Drop.

The waitress asked me what kind of vodka I wanted. She received the same blank stare but this time a shoulder shrug, too. She smiled and laughed and asked me if I wanted it sweet then made an executive decision when I told her yes.

I decided that I did like her after all.

Since Katie was certain she wasn't going to sing and I saw Heather looking through the binder I asked her if she wanted to sing a duet. She had been eyeing Creepin' In by Norah Jones and I said I knew that song and that I loved it. After she handed me the slip of paper to give to the DJ I thought about the song. Yes, I knew the song but it has been years since it was in my CD rotation (yes, I am old school and do not own an iPod).

Heather had done karaoke before so she wasn't nervous. I did karaoke once as well, at a friends house. My friend Megan and I sang "I Will Survive" by Cake. It was fun. We kind of botched the song and she did better than I did. After that all the women at the party sang a Thai love song. The guys "sang" a Thai rap song. It really isn't that odd; it was a going away party for Ryan's Thai co-worker, Song, and his wife Pen. Thai love karaoke. It was fun.

One big difference between karaoke at a friends' house and in a lounge is the audience. Another difference is the regulars at the lounge. One guy was horrific. I imagine if he was younger he would be one to try out for American Idol and be shocked when the judges scoffed at his clear lack of talent. The other regulars were decent. One guy stuck to Garth Brooks but he didn't sing Friends in Low Places. Boo. If you are going to sing country pick a good one, please. We don't need to hear Honky Tonk Badonkadonk. Actually, I don't know who sings that one. But the contry loving dude said he would like some 'help' up front since it was his first time singing this particular song so two of the other regulars went up to the dance floor and 'danced'. I kept thinking, does Hat Girl (so named because she was wearing a hat. Clever, I know), realize that by dancing to Honky Tonk Badonkadonk we are all staring at her badonkadonk? Of course she did. I thought of my Grandma Opal and some advice she gave me once while we were in the car in a Safeway parking lot. She pointed at some young girls about my age who were being loud and obnoxious and dressed a bit on the provocative side and she simply said, "April, you don't have to be like that." That was all she said but it was enough.

But enough about the butt shaking (pun intended). Back to me and how nervous I was. My nerves work their way out through my bladder. It is so annoying. In High School before a concert (I wear my band nerd stripes proudly) I tried to time my bathroom run as close as possible to go time. It didn't matter how many times I ran off to the bathroom, I would feel like I had to go again in five minutes. Last night was no different. Well, yes, a little different. Expectations in high school were much higher.

When the DJ called out "Heather and April, singing for the first time tonight" I wanted to say, "Just kidding, Heather," and run to the bathroom to pee. Instead, I stood up and covered my mouth and looked at my friends with my eyes screaming, "Aah! What have I done?!"

I was singing the part of Norah and Heather was singing Dolly's part. When the words came on the screen Heather said, "That's you." I jumped in about the second line. I would say I started singing on the second line but it was more like I was reciting the words on the screen. I got behind, I couldn't jump in so Heather jumped in and started singing my part. Whew.

Then her part came on and she sang her part beautifully. Then my part came back and I choked. She sang my part and I choked some more. Then during the part where Norah and Dolly take turns singing the same line, "Creepin' In" it was me in a great monotone voice speaking the line with Heather singing her part.

Like most people who did karaoke Heather danced a bit while singing. Me? I stood stock still and stared at the monitor. I don't know if Heather looked up at our friends or not because, like I said, I kept my eyes fixed on the monitor. During a musical interlude I did look up once and saw the polite smiles on everyone's faces. I wished I hadn't looked up. As I was standing there with all of the moves of Al Gore, Heather leaned over and said, "dance." I laughed. My singing would be award winning in comparison to my dancing. I dropped the microphone a bit and said, "No."

Mercifully the song came to an end. Heather and I took our seats. I put my head down on the table and moaned even though some young guys were kind enough to say, "Way to go ladies." Which was very nice of them to say but it made me feel old. They were obviously in their young to mid-twenties and my group was obviously not the young, mid or even late 20's group.

Katie and I-forget-her-name co-worker of the birthday boy made it clear that they were not going to sing but told me I was very brave to go up there and sing. Mm hm. I know what that means. You were brave = You sucked but kudos on the nerve to show off your lack of talent. Knowing in my heart of hearts what the answer was going to be I leaned across the table and implored of Katie, "Was I at least better than that guy?" referring to the guy who loved him some karaoke at the expense of everyone listening. She didn't have to say anything, her face said it all, "Well, he is so confident. You were so nervous."

I wailed and buried my head in my arms in shame. "But you were so brave, April. I could never do that," Katie said.

"Great, I get the brave award," I moaned.

People who don't karaoke aren't chicken. They are smart! They know where their talents lie. Lay. Hmm, lay or lie? I know humans lie down and objects lay down but what about where talents lay/lie? Ooh, I'm show-casing one of my talents right now as a dork.

I am not smart however because if I was I would steer clear of all public singing save for singing at church with the rest of the congregation. I suppose I could live with having the most appreciative audience of one, my sweet little Gavin. He doesn't know that his mommy could peel paint off a wall with her voice.

But, alas, I am a glutton for punishment because I'm already thinking of the song that I will practice, practice, practice for the next time I karaoke.