Twenty-Twenty-Twenty Four Hours to Go

I’m 61 years old and have done karaoke exactly twice. The first time was a smashing success. I sang the Ramone’s, “I Wanna Be Sedated,” at my 70 year old mother’s local hangout, to rousing applause.

The next time was about 10 years later at a tiny, empty, dive bar, in Key West. I was with a group of about 13 people and we were pretty much the only ones in the bar. I chose the same song, which I expected to be a smash, at least with my friends. The bartender, the only person working in the bar at the time, booed me off the stage.

My friends were pissed and threw some shade his way. I grunted a minor objection and we all left to continue our revelry elsewhere.

The thing is, looking back, I’m thinking to myself, good for him.