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March 1, 2006
Previously... Next time...
It's not getting any better.
Each day that I slip on the blue vest, I endure another few hours of putting up with the same people. People who can't read large black and white letters. People who have no concept of alphabetical organization. People who blame me for things I cannot control. People whose only apparent goal in life is to complain, who will never be satisfied even if they always get their way and must share their misery.
The nights that I slip out of the blue vest and go to a bar where I drink orange juice and sing rock and roll songs are not improving either. In fact, these nights are deteriorating with disturbing rapidity. The drunks in the bars aren't listening. They're involved with their pitchers of beer, their four-person microparties, and their cell phones. When they do take a break from these things and they're not at the mike, they're shouting insults toward anyone they feel deserves them.
What am I getting out of this deal? Certainly not satisfaction. Any applause I hear is minimal and half-hearted anymore, much like the average golf clap. If I did drink anything with alcohol, nobody would buy it for me. There are no groupies grinding their hips against me during the dance breaks. I haven't, by any stretch of the imagination, made any friends by doing this. There is no Jax Mandrake Fan Club. I receive no money. My reward, boiled down, is a layer of fine tobacco ash that coats my clothes and lungs. Huge damn carcinogenic benefit.
It is for this reason that I am strongly considering permanent retirement from karaoke. This one public activity that brought me any miniscule quantity of pleasure is getting to be as much of a chore as anything I do at work. If there's no appreciation, there's no reason for me to go and do it.
It sucks to live in a place where there's nowhere to go in order to do the things I'd really like to do. I'm seventy miles from any place that features comedians, and every one that I've found only features those who have already made a name for themselves. Every open mike night in the area that I've heard about does exclusively musical acts. I am unable to effectively play a musical instrument and therefore will not see a rock album materialize without assistance.
I muddle on.
Jax Mandrake