Posts Tagged With: karaoke world tour

Yeah, I sang in Las Vegas this weekend . . .

I was just in Las Vegas. The impetus for the trip (as if an excuse is ever needed to travel to that city) was my participation in the second annual Trivia Championships of North America (TCONA). But I couldn’t go to Las Vegas, of all places, without getting in some karaoke! And so, while I enjoyed immensely the various tests of knowledge that brought me to town, and while it was fun hanging out with the interesting people who were my fellow TCONA attendees, I had to tear myself away from all that. I needed to hit some karaoke venues on the Las Vegas Strip. Over the course of the weekend, I proceeded to sing at the two places that are, in a city that doesn’t lack for karaoke options, my very favourite karaoke haunts. I’m happy to report that at both of those places, the karaoke was just as spectacular as I’d recalled it being. Continue reading

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Why Barry Manilow is dead to me

This Thursday, I’m flying to Las Vegas. Naturally, I’ll be doing some singing while in town. My upcoming trip to Sin City will be my fifth time there; and as it approaches I’m reminded of some of the great times I’ve enjoyed in Las Vegas in the past. But I’m also reminded of a colossal disappointment that I suffered at the hands of Barry Manilow during a Vegas vacation in 2009. I’m going to reprint here, verbatim, the text of a heartfelt letter that I sent to Mr. Manilow (with a copy to his agent) in the aftermath of that incident; the letter speaks for itself regarding how Barry wronged me. Then I’ll share some parting thoughts.

Before I get to the letter, I also want to apologize to you, my readers, for the long interval between blog posts. In my previous article, I promised that the subject of my next posting would be my September 2010 trip to Easter Island. I’m still working on that essay; it’s a wide-ranging account of my experiences on the island also known as Rapa Nui, and it’s taken longer than anticipated to edit my recollections and photos into a coherent form that’s ready for publishing. (Also, in all candor, it can be tough sticking to a regular schedule when you’re writing for your own blog and don’t have an editor pushing you to meet deadlines.) However, I’ve reached the point where I no longer want my entire blog to be on hold just because of delays in completing one post. So while my Easter Island memoir will soon appear in this space, I’ll publish articles on other subjects in the interim — including some dispatches live from Las Vegas later this week! And now, without further delay, here’s the letter that explains my antipathy towards Barry Manilow.

Dear Mr. Manilow:

I am writing to express how upset I am about your last-minute cancellation of your Las Vegas concert on Friday, March, 20, 2009, which my friend David and I had tickets to attend. Enclosed is a copy of my ticket order confirmation. Continue reading

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Country no. 8 on my World Karaoke Tour: Vive la France!

Generations of Americans have been drawn to Paris for its culture. I came for karaoke.

Not long after returning from my 2 1/2 week Eurotrip in 2004, I tendered my notice of resignation to my horrible boss. I was finally extricating myself from an untenable work situation. My last day at the office was in early November. I left without having a new job in hand; that’s an indication of just how much I felt the need to get out.

It took me nearly a year to find a new position, partly because a headhunter who’d promised to help me seemed more interested in having me perform cut-rate legal work for his company than in placing me with a law firm (I referred to him as the “laissez-faire headhunter” when mentioning him to my friends). Only when I initiated my own networking efforts the following summer did my job search finally acquire momentum. One of my contacts referred me to an elite recruiter, who hooked me up with the law firm where I still practice today. I arranged to start that new gig in early October, 2005.

Before embarking on the next phase of my career, I decided to visit London and Paris for a little over a week. Paris was to be a weekend excursion from London. Continue reading

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Countries no. 6 and 7 on my World Karaoke Tour: the Netherlands and Belgium

After my World Karaoke Tour was shut out in Italy, I headed north and hoped that things would go differently in the Netherlands and Belgium. Three train rides later, and some 16 hours after my departure from Venice, I rolled into the Dutch capital.

Dutch courage in Amsterdam

Amsterdam is well-known for its Red Light District, where one can indulge in certain activities that are unlawful in most of the world. To gain a full flavor of the city in which I now found myself, I made sure to check out the Red Light District (strictly out of curiosity, of course). šŸ™‚ Actually, I didn’t have to wait long after my arrival in Amsterdam to observe one of the city’s legalized vices: as soon as I disembarked from the train, I witnessed people smoking joints on the platform.

I probably could have gotten high myself from the secondhand smoke that was wafting up from all of that cannabis. But doing the Cheech & Chong thing was unnecessary for me. As this blog reflects, singing karaoke provides a natural high for me. So, although many tourists in Amsterdam end up in that city’s “coffee shops”, I set out in search of a venue where I could indulge my addiction to song. Happily, that quest proved much more successful in Amsterdam than it had in Rome; and on Tuesday night, August 31, 2004, the Netherlands became country no. 6 on my World Karaoke Tour.

I opened with “Footloose,” perhaps a risky choice because most of my audience in the bar that night consisted of first-year university students (They were in the midst of their orientation week). Those whippersnappers hadn’t even born yet when Footloose: the movie was released in 1984, and they’d probably never heard its title song, originally recorded by Kenny Loggins. (An atrocious remake of the movie — a “reboot,” in current Hollywood parlance — would be foisted upon filmgoers in 2011; but on that magical night when I strode onto the stage in Amsterdam, the release of the Footloose remake was still seven years in the future.) One thing that I had going for me: the Footloose theme song is an outstanding dance anthem that invariably gets a crowd fired up. Have a look at the closing scene from the movie, in which the full potential of the song is realized:


My concerns about my song selection proved unjustified; the young scholars responded with enthusiasm to my rendition of “Footloose.” If this was their introduction to the song, it had made a favorable first impression on them. My trademark H-Bomb leg kick at the end of the song didn’t hurt. And my Amsterdam karaoke appearance marked the first time that I uttered what would become a signature line for me at my appearances in foreign venues: “New York City is in the house!” This too helped endear me to the audience.

In addition to “Footloose,” I performed four other songs over the course of the evening. I couldn’t tell you what those other songs were, as I neglected to document that information (The name of the bar where my singing took place has also long since been erased from my memory banks). Keep reading to learn more about my experiences in Amsterdam and Brussels

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H-Bomb on TV overseas

The World Karaoke Tour is premised on me bringing my karaoke performances to the world in person. But lately I’ve gained exposure in some farwaway lands without having to leave the United States.

Taiwan

As you may know, back in January I was interviewed by a Taiwanese television station, TVBS, while riding (and singing) in the karaoke cab in northern Virginia (And if you didn’t know about this, well, shame on you for not keeping up with my blog). šŸ™‚ It seems that the news story for which I was interviewed was televised at some point. Here you can find a written story that the station’s website posted about the karaoke cab, which apparently accompanied the broadcast of the story. You may not get very far in that article if you don’t read Mandarin Chinese; but on the left is a screen shot from the article, in which you can see me singing in the karaoke taxi. I don’t know what the text in the article says about me, but I assume it’s something good. šŸ™‚ Anyway, I’m still following up to try to obtain a video of the televised news story.

UPDATE (July 13, 2012): I spoke today with the Washington bureau chief of TVBS. She advised that it’s not possible for me to obtain a copy of the video. She did not provide an explanation (she also said that the video is not viewable online). Oh well, I tried . . .

The Philippines

The karaoke cabbie, Joel Laguidao, hails from the Philippines — no surprise, as karaoke is huge in that archipelagic nation. Recently, a Filipino news program interviewed Mr. Laguidao. Here’s a segment that includes that interview. From 1:17 to 1:28, you can see stock footage of a familiar person singing in the back seat of that taxi. šŸ™‚


You may feel like you’ve seen that stock footage somewhere before; if so, that’s because it came from my first appearance in Mr. Laguidao’s karaoke cab, back in November 2011.

The Philippines and Taiwan are both on my radar screen as future checkpoints on the World Karaoke Tour; and when I get to those places, my reputation will have preceded me!

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Kiwi karaoke chaos

According to this article in the New Zealand Herald — the newspaper of record in its country’s largest city, Auckland — karaoke bars in Auckland aren’t really about the singing; they’re places where people go to engage in far more sinister activities. The Herald compares the typical karaoke pub in that fair city to “an opium den of the 19th century,” and states that in such a venue, “privacy, alcohol and more than a touch of criminality combine to shape one of the city’s new dens of iniquity. Police aren’t concerned about the terrible singing of businessmen – they are worried about drug-dealing, money-laundering, gross intoxication and prostitution.” Well, at least it’s a relief that the local constables aren’t policing the vocal quality of karaoke singers.

I have to say, I’ve been to Auckland, and I’ve sung karaoke there (This occurred in January 2010, when New Zealand became country no. 17 on my World Karaoke Tour; my report on that particular H-Bomb appearance will be the subject of an upcoming blog post). But I didn’t witness any of the depraved pursuits that the Herald depicts as commonplace in its jurisdiction’s karaoke bars. I didn’t feel that I’d wandered into a modern-day opium den. Continue reading

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Country no. 5 on my World Karaoke Tour: Greece

As previously discussed in this blog, through August 1993, I’d sung karaoke in four countries. As the calendar flipped to August 2004, I’d still sung karaoke in a total of . . . four countries. The biggest reason for this stagnation in my World Karaoke Tour was that for much of the intervening period I’d been trapped in a horrible job in which I was severely underpaid relative to my qualifications as an attorney and the work I was doing, and which therefore did not enable me to afford vacations to foreign lands (That job also sucked for additional reasons beyond the paltry compensation, but those reasons are beyond the scope of this blog). In the summer of 2004 I was still languishing in that dismal job, although I was only a few months away from finally quitting it. But I’d accumulated enough American Express Membership Rewards miles to qualify for a free round-trip flight to Europe; and by staying in cheap hotels I was able to cobble together my first overseas trip since 1996.

The itinerary for my new voyage included the Greek island of Crete; Rome; Pompeii; Venice; Amsterdam; and Brussels. The focus in the present article will be on the initial stop of Crete; the next installment of this series continues the narrative of my late-summer 2004 romp through Europe, during which the concept of my World Karaoke Tour finally began to reach critical mass.

Prologue: Terror on the high seas in 1996

I’d been to Greece once before — during the aforementioned 1996 journey that had marked my most recent foray outside the United States. On that trip, taken at the end of the summer, my law school friend Dave and I visited Athens and Delphi on the Greek mainland, as well as the Aegean islands of Ios and Santorini. Although Greece boasts a musical tradition dating back to ancient times, I didn’t find any karaoke during my 1996 visit. To be honest, I didn’t really seek it out; while I’d been singing karaoke Stateside for nearly five years at that point, karaoke had not yet become one of the defining activities of my life.

Despite the lack of any H-Bomb performances, my 1996 Greek holiday was memorable for a certain boat ride that occurred towards the end. Dave and I were on a ferry, returning from Santorini to Athens before flying back to New York. The ferry made an unscheduled stop at some random island. An announcement came over the public address system in Greek, and about two-thirds of the people on the boat immediately disembarked. Dave and I wondered why. Continue reading

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Rogue taxi drivers and “La Bamba”: my weekend in Mexico City, 2011

The Pyramid of the Sun is located along Calle de los Muertos (the Avenue of the Dead), at Teotihuacan outside Mexico City.Several nights before I flew to Mexico City, I was shaken up by a disturbing nightmare. In the dream, there was a cloud on the ground and I stepped onto it; the cloud was then magically transformed into a glacier. Walking on the glacier, I fell into a hidden crevasse and started plummeting for what would certainly be hundreds of feet. Even if I survived the fall, I knew I would end up too far below the surface to ever climb out or be found by rescuers. And I thought to myself, “This is what it feels like to know I’m about to die.” Then I woke up.

One year ago this weekend — Memorial Day weekend in the United States — I flew to Mexico City because I’d never been to Mexico, and that city was geographically close enough (roughly a four hour flight from Newark Liberty International Airport to Benito Juarez International Airport near Mexico City) that it would be easy to jet down there for a long weekend and check off another country on my World Karaoke Tour. The concept here was similar to the reasoning I’d employed when I added Canada to the tour via a weekend jaunt to Montreal in August 2010. I’m constantly looking to increase the tally of countries in which I’ve sung; and while I understandably get enthused over exotic locales like Easter Island, there’s no reason for me to overlook the “easy” destinations (especially those that are immediately adjacent to my home country). Still, as I headed to the airport, my excitement was tempered by a sense of disquiet. Mexico City's newest museum, El Museo Soumaya, opened to the public in March 2011. I wondered whether my nightmare portended a tragic outcome for this journey. My initial reaction was to associate the dream with my fear of flying, and to interpret it as a premonition of a plane crash (This speculation was heightened as a result of bad weather in New York on the day of my departure; I become especially nervous when there’s a predicted risk of thunderstorms around the time of takeoff). But did the dream serve as a more generalized warning regarding my impending travel? In the dream, stepping onto the cloud seemed innocuous enough at the time; but it became the type of fateful and irreversible decision that would inexorably lead to my demise.

Saturday morning and afternoon: sightseeing

Things started out innocently enough. I arrived in Mexico’s capital city on a Friday night. On Saturday morning, I headed out to Mexico City’s newest museum: El Museo Soumaya (see photo, above right), which had just opened about two months prior to my visit. The interior of El Museo Soumaya is more than a little reminiscent of the Guggenheim.

This museum displays the art collection of Mexican billionaire Carlos Slim HelĆŗ, who according to Forbes is the wealthiest man in the world. The emphasis of the Soumaya’s holdings is on European and Mexican art. Among the highlights is a large trove of Rodin sculptures, including a copy of “Le Penseur” (“The Thinker”). Also included are works by such artists as Picasso, Monet, Matisse, Renoir, Van Gogh, Dali, Miró, El Greco, Tintoretto, and (as you would expect in a Mexican museum) Diego Rivera. Moreover, the Soumaya is one of those museums whose architecture is as notable as the treasures it houses. As shown here, the interior of the Soumaya is evocative of New York City’s Guggenheim, with the focal point a gently sloping ramp that curves upward and gradually ascends to the top level. The concept may not be original, but it’s well-executed.

After getting some culture in the museum, I explored Mexican history at the Palacio Nacional (National Palace). One of the signature attractions of the palace is its murals by Diego Rivera that vividly dramatize his country’s past.

Then I had a stop to make outside the city. I made an excursion to the suburb of Naucalpan, to experience a very distinctive-looking house. That home is known unofficially as the “Nautilus house,” due to its resemblance to the sea creature of that name. I’d come across a photo of the Nautilus house on the internet, while perusing a website that showed examples of unusual architecture from around the world. The Nautilus house in the suburb of Naucalpan.When I realized that this unique home was located in the vicinity of Mexico City, and that I would be visiting that very metropolis, I knew I had to see such an architectural gem in person. Only one problem: despite my formidable googling skills, I couldn’t find an address for the Nautilus house. What to do?

I took a chance and emailed the architect who had designed the Nautilus house. I didn’t even expect to hear back. But his firm responded and contacted the house’s owners (yes, there’s a family that enjoys the enviable distinction of living in this remarkable abode!). The result: I was invited to visit the Nautilus house as a special guest of the owners.

So on the Saturday afternoon of my weekend in Mexico, I ventured out to Naucalpan (my mode of transportation was a private car service arranged by my hotel, and that was a good choice because even with detailed directions, the house was hard to find. My driver, however, was able to telephone the house and converse with the residents in Spanish to obtain the necessary navigational assistance).Inside the Nautilus house. The Nautilus house is situated in a gated enclave that abounds with elegant homes, but those other residences are attractive in a much more conventional way. I could only imagine what the neighbors think of this bizarre habitation in their midst.

Upon my arrival at the Nautilus house, I was treated to outstanding hospitality by the occupants. They welcomed me inside and gave me a full tour. As you can see in the photo on the left, the interior was just as spectacular as the exterior. (More photos taken inside the Nautilus house can be seen in the full album of photos from my Mexico City weekend, which you can viewĀ here.) The patriarch of the household and his son then took me for a walk around the neighborhood. By the way, it turned out that conversing with the family was not a problem, as its members spoke English fluently.

Saturday night: karaoke

I’d already had a full day and seen some cool stuff; but after I circled back to Mexico City, it was time for the activity that supplied the principal purpose of my trip. I was off to sing karaoke! Continue reading

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Country no. 14 on my World Karaoke Tour: Japan

Almost from the time that I began singing karaoke regularly, taking the H-Bomb show to Japan had been a prized objective for me. The Land of the Rising Sun was, of course, the place where karaoke originated. How could I not want to experience karaoke in the land of its birth?

I finally made it happen in April 2008. After singing in 13 other countries, I prepared to make my long-sought pilgrimage. That journey to Japan — my first foray into Asia, and my first time crossing the International Date Line — proved to be an outstanding vacation in many respects. Surprisingly, however, as you’ll see, I found the Japanese karaoke scene a letdown in comparison to my soaring expectations.

Like most visitors from overseas, my point of entry to Japan was Narita International Airport. That airport is located in the city of Narita, about 35 miles east of Tokyo’s city center.

Disaster almost struck before I even made it out of the airport. Right after I cleared customs, my passport fell out of my backpack without my noticing. But just a few minutes later, a young American man ran up to me in the ground transportation area and asked if I’d lost my passport. “That’s impossible,” I confidently replied, adding that I had just placed it in my bag. But then I noticed that the zipper was partially open on my backpack, and the passport was missing from the compartment in which I’d inserted it. The young man then ran back to where he’d come from; and shortly thereafter, he returned with my passport. Disaster averted.

This wasn’t the first time that I lost my passport while on the road. But this blog isn’t about my irresponsibility; it’s about my love of karaoke and travel. So, onward!

Anyway, once I recovered my passport, I didn’t immediately board a train to Tokyo. Instead I headed to a nearby hotel in Narita. Why did I do that? you may wonder. Continue reading

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Countries no. 2, 3, and 4 on my World Karaoke Tour: United Kingdom, Austria, and Iceland

As of June 1993, I’d been singing karaoke sporadically for about two years. That month, having just completed my first year as a student at Georgetown University Law Center, I flew to London to commence a summer law study program. My summer was to divide into three segments, each three weeks long: First, in London, I was taking a course on “Comparative Litigation.” Next, in Salzburg, Austria, I was taking a course on “Fundamental Rights in Europe and the U.S.,” which was co-taught by Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy. Both the London and Salzburg sessions were under the auspices of a program that was operated not by Georgetown but by the McGeorge School of Law at the University of the Pacific in Sacramento, California. Following my six weeks of academics, I would spend the final three weeks on a sort of abbreviated version of the Grand Tour, passing through various Western European cities. By this time I had come to regret not having spent a semester abroad during my undergraduate years at Johns Hopkins; and I viewed my summer excursion as a way of partially compensating for what I’d missed out on. (This was at a time when study abroad programs were far more likely than today to take place in Western Europe; naturally, I assumed that if I had gone abroad for my junior year, my destination would have been somewhere in that region.)

The entries on my law school transcript from the summer of ’93 are not particularly important to this blog (although it was pretty cool hanging out in an Austrian beer garden with a Supreme Court justice, and asking him about a case that I had just seen one of my professors argue before him and his fellow jurists a few months earlier). But that summer in Europe had another, unexpected impact on my life. It saw the genesis of my World Karaoke Tour.

London, United Kingdom
I’d been in London for no more than a few days when I decided that I needed to find a British pub in which to sing. So one afternoon after my classes let out, I walked around from bar to bar, asking the bartenders if they knew of any pubs that offered karaoke. In one response that was seared into my brain, a bartender not only stated that he knew of no such pubs, but gratuitously added that “karaoke is old hat.” He said this all the way back in 1993! Talk about being on the wrong side of history. šŸ™‚ Of course, in 2012, karaoke is ubiquitous almost everywhere on the planet — an outcome that would not have surprised the 23-year-old me in ’93. So anyway, when that bloke made his smug comment, I wanted to respond, “Hey man, your whole country is old hat!” But I held my tongue. (Note: I’m a huge Anglophile; so when I call England “old hat,” I say that term with nothing but affection. But there was something ironic about a denizen of such an ancient land deriding as antiquated an invention of the 1970s.)

Naturally, I did find a place to sing in London. Continue reading

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Karaoke in Brooklyn? Fuhgeddaboutit!

When most people from other parts of the world think about New York City, they visualize Manhattan. But the Big Apple’s most populous borough, and one whose grittiness perhaps better represents the real spirit of New York, is Brooklyn. Indeed, if Brooklyn had not been consolidated into New York City in 1898 but had instead remained independent, it would, even today, remain the fourth largest city in the United States — just as depicted on the sign featured in the opening credits to Welcome Back Kotter. I enjoy spending time in Brooklyn; visiting Brooklyn Bridge Park, and strolling the boardwalk at Coney Island, are two of my very favorite things to do in this city.

One thing that my forays into Brooklyn had never included, prior to Sunday night, was karaoke singing. In the over 16 years that I’ve been a New York City resident, I’ve sung in Manhattan on hundreds of different occasions; and I’ve also made multiple karaoke appearances in the borough of Queens. But Brooklyn had never witnessed an H-Bomb performance. Until now. Continue reading

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Country no. 1: the United States

Two weeks ago, Portugal became country no. 24 on my World Karaoke Tour. This is the first in a series of posts that will review the first 23 countries on that tour. Today our topic is the place where it all began — the U.S. of A. In this, my most personal post yet, I discuss how I was first exposed to karaoke nearly 21 years ago, and how that hobby gradually came to assume a position of pre-eminence in my life.

It started with a nursery rhyme. Although I’ve sung hundreds of different songs over the years, the very first time that I grabbed a karaoke mic the song I belted out was “The Farmer In The Dell.”

The first ten years: 1991-2001

On the night of March 4, 1991, I was celebrating my 21st birthday. I was living with my parents in my hometown of West Orange, New Jersey; the previous year I’d graduated from Johns Hopkins University, and I was in the midst of a two year stint as a paralegal at a small law firm in Newark. My enrollment in law school was still nearly a year and a half away.

This was the milestone birthday on which I became “legal” to purchase alcoholic beverages in the United States. Of course, it was not as if I’d never imbibed (or never become intoxicated); but reaching the magic age of 21 still carried a certain symbolism.

To honor the occasion, I was hanging out with my high school friends Jon and Andrew, who had also returned to West Orange after their university studies. During the course of our evening wanderings, we entered a bar in West Orange that happened to be holding a karaoke night. Karaoke was relatively new to the United States at that point. The first karaoke bar in the country had opened in Burbank, California in 1982; nine years later, karaoke was still relatively unknown in the U.S. I’d first become acquainted with the concept while watching an episode of The Simpsons that aired on January 24, 1991. In that episode, Bart and Lisa Simpson had sung the theme song from Shaft at a Springfield-area sushi restaurant.

Now, less than six weeks later, I found myself in the presence of karaoke for the first time. I flipped through the song book, in search of a song title and number to submit to the KJ. Continue reading

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Hello, Taiwan!

I’m in Washington, DC right now. Back in November, I took a ride in Joel Laguidao’s karaoke cab in Northern Virginia. That went pretty well and I had a great time. So this week, Joel called me and told me that a TV news crew from a Taiwanese station, TVBS, would be filming a segment in his cab; and he invited me to go for another ride with him, this time in the presence of the Taiwanese TV people. I took Joel up on his offer and rode the train down to D.C. on Saturday afternoon. On Saturday night, the TVBS cameraman filmed me while I was singing in Joel’s cab (I sang “La Bamba” and “New York State of Mind”); and then a reporter from the station interviewed me. There’s no guarantee that any of this raw H-Bomb footage will make it on the air; and even if it does, I may not like the way I look. šŸ™‚ But if there turn out to be any videos worth sharing, you’ll see them here. And hopefully, this will be just the first of many opportunities for me to gain international media exposure for my World Karaoke Tour.

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24

Last night, on my very first night in Lisbon, Portugal became the 24th country on my World Karaoke Tour. I didn’t want to go out last night; I’d been up for two days (as usual, I’d been unable to fall asleep on my redeye flight from New York the night before). I was exhausted and really just wanted to be in my hotel room catching up on some zzz’s.

But when I chatted up the man at the front desk of my hotel and had him make some phone calls, he was adamant that I was extremely unlikely to find karaoke tonight (New Year’s Eve) or the following evening (a Sunday). At the same time, he assured me that a venue called CafĆ© da Ponte in the Doca Santo AmĆ”ro section of town (a region also known as the Docklands or Docks) did in fact have karaoke last night. He called them and confirmed it.

It was possible that by exploring on my own today, I would find a venue that offered karaoke for New Year’s Eve or the following night. But I couldn’t count on that. So if I didn’t hit CafĆ© da Ponte last night when I had the chance, I risked having nowhere to sing during my stay in Portugal — and thus jeopardizing the very mission of this trip. Seeing some castles and monuments would be nice, but if I didn’t sing karaoke this weekend, my vacation would be a failure.

So it was really a no-brainer. šŸ™‚ At 10 pm I jumped in a taxi, which conveyed me to the Docklands. It dropped me off at the taxi rank, which was all the way at the end of the strip of bars and restaurants; my destination of CafĆ© da Ponte was at the other end. I hadn’t gotten very far when I was accosted by four Portugese youths.

At first they seemed friendly enough, asking me where I was from and feigning excitement when hearing that I hailed from New York. Suddenly, one young man who seemed like the leader of the quartet asked me if I had drugs. “No,” I said. “Let me see,” he responded, pointing to my backpack. I shook my head and started walking away from the youths.

Undeterred, the youths followed me and now surrounded me. “Let me see if you have drugs,” the leader repeated.

At that point, I was thinking that I did not come all this way just to be mugged or whatever by some second-rate hoodlums. Although it was dark and there weren’t many people out yet along the strip (I was later advised that on a Friday night, people don’t really start showing up in that area until about 11 pm), I did spot a group of older folks a little further down. “Help!” I yelled, loud enough so that they could hear me (and I did catch their attention); then I made a run for it. My assailants smiled, realizing that I’d gotten away.

I was still nervous since I would have to return this way to get a taxi back to my hotel after I sung. But I figured I would deal with it, and now I proceeded to CafƩ da Ponte for some Portugese karaoke.

The host, Tiago, was very nice and put me up as the first singer (although the fact that I was the first patron to submit a song may have had something to do with it). By the time that Tiago handed the mic to me, a decent-sized crowd had assembled. From the generous selection of English-language songs in the book, I chose “At This Moment” by Billy Vera & the Beaters, which is one of my A-list songs. And about four minutes later, Portugal had become the latest addition to my World Karaoke Tour.

I was having a good time and would have liked to stay and get to know some of the locals as I would ordinarily do. Unfortunately, after having been up all night, I felt an overriding need to just get back to the hotel for some much-needed rest. So I reluctantly took leave of the nice people at CafĆ© da Ponte, and hoped that I would have the chance to make a more leisurely appearance there sometime (but that more leisurely visit won’t happen this weekend, as they have no karaoke tonight or tomorrow night).

Incidentally, when I told the bartender about my encounter with the ruffians at the entrance to the Docks, he called the police. He said that I wasn’t the only person who’d complained about them. By the time I had to walk back to the taxi stand, even though I hadn’t been at the Docks for very long, there was a sizable police presence on site.

Lisbon, like most places in Western Europe, certainly seems like a safe city — it doesn’t have the reputation of a Rio de Janeiro or a Mexico City. But my incident at the Docks is a reminder that no matter where you go, there will always be people who mean to harm you; so it’s important to always be alert and exercise caution.

Well, I shouldn’t spend all of my vacation time in my hotel room writing blog entries. šŸ™‚ Time to get out and take in some of Lisbon’s sights!

Categories: Europe, World Karaoke Tour | Tags: , , , , , , | 1 Comment

In beautiful downtown Burbank

The wheel. The printing press. The telephone. The automobile. Aviation. Radio and television. The internet. These are among the transformative inventions that improved the quality of people’s lives and changed the course of human history. If you ask me, karaoke belongs on that list. But where did it come from?

The Japanese origins of karaoke are well-known, although the particular man who is credited with those origins has not become the household name that he deserves to be. Daisuke Inoue, an unassuming Osakan, gifted karaoke to the world in 1971. And yes, I would rank him right up there with the likes of Gutenberg and the Wright Brothers. šŸ™‚

Fewer people are versed in the history of karaoke in the United States. Inoue’s invention reached critical mass in the U.S. in the 1990s, but its American presence dates back somewhat earlier than that. Appropriately enough, karaoke made its American debut near Hollywood, the global epicenter of the entertainment industry. The first venue not only in the United States, but in all of the Western hemisphere, to offer the chance to sing with pre-recorded instrumental accompaniment was the Dimples Supper Club (also known as Dimples Showcase) in Burbank, California.

Named for a Shirley Temple movie, Dimples opened its doors in 1982, and its customers have been singing their hearts out ever since. For anyone serious about conducting a World Karaoke Tour, Dimples is a required destination. If you want to explore La-La Land in all its glory, a visit to Dimples is just as integral to the Hollywood experience as the Universal Studios tour or Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

Dimples is truly an institution in the Los Angeles area, and has forged a particularly robust connection with nearby Hollywood. Numerous television programs have spotlighted Dimples, and countless stars of TV and film, as well as musical recording artists, have graced its karaoke stage. Some of its walls are adorned with autographed photos of famous guests who’ve dropped by to sing. Oddly enough, one of the celebs who hangs out most frequently at Dimples is Dennis Haskins, who played Principal Richard Belding on the classic Saturday morning television series from the early 1990s, “Saved by the Bell” (he also reprised that role in the spinoff “Saved by the Bell: the New Class”). Hey, I said he was a celebrity; I didn’t say he was an A-lister. šŸ™‚ But he deserves props for his excellent choice of hobbies. Here you can watch him doing a number by Tom Jones. Say what you will about Dennis Haskins, the man knows how to put on a show:


Haskins, who reportedly has been a regular at Dimples since 2002, has actually released a CD compilation of his karaoke stylings (you can also download the tracks individually as MP3s). But I digress.

I’ve been to Dimples twice so far: in November 2009, and July 2011. The decor of Dimples can best be described as . . . garish. The stage area is festooned with props, and singers are regularly encouraged to don bizarre hats and other unusual headgear. For example, the last time that I took to that stage, proprietor Sal Ferraro insisted that I wear a Viking helmet. Because apparently, nothing says “karaoke” like a pair of Viking horns protruding from your head. Naturally, I obliged.

One of the coolest features that Dimples boasts is its live video feed. If you’re singing on the Dimples stage at any time between 6:00 pm and 2:00 am, Pacific time, people all over the world can go online and watch your performance in real time! (another notable karaoke bar with a live webcam broadcasting from its stage is the Cats Meow in New Orleans. As you might expect, I’ve been to that legendary Big Easy karaoke joint too). In addition, after your song is finished, the Dimples management presents you with a free DVD and Polaroid photograph of your performance. Typically, the person bringing these mementoes to your table is Sal himself, who often goes by the moniker “Mr. Dimples” (Sal is an interesting man in many respects, who has visited over 100 countries, thereby qualifying him for membership in the prestigious Travelers’ Century Club. However, the Dimples website, while supplying this tidbit, does not indicate in how many of those countries he’s sung karaoke). Admittedly, the need for such recordings to be supplied by the establishment is greatly diminished in an age where everyone has a smartphone that shoots HD video. But it’s still a nice touch. Plus, the DVD is of superior quality to anything your inebriated friends are likely to produce.

Sal’s restaurant also offers an extensive dinner menu, and it’s certainly a nice bonus when the available victuals at a karaoke establishment extend beyond mere “bar food.”

Here’s a video from my first Dimples appearance, in November 2009. The song is “At this Moment” by Billy Vera & the Beaters, perhaps best known as the love theme for Alex P. Keaton and Ellen Reed on the 1980s sitcom “Family Ties.” I don’t know what the weird background noise is that sounds like running water (I pulled the video off the complimentary DVD that Dimples provided to me). But I wanted to include this video in this post, because “At this Moment” is a reasonable candidate for my best song:


And here’s a video from my July 2011 visit to Dimples, during which I performed a duet of The Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me,” with my friend Erica:


Update (April 2013): My 2011 visit to Dimples was not particularly enjoyable. On that Saturday night, Ferraro, who was acting as karaoke host, was enforcing a policy that, once you’d sung your first song, you would not be called up to the stage again until everyone else who wished to sing had gotten at least one song in (regardless of whether they’d entered the building five minutes ago or five hours ago). As a result, I was made to wait two and a half hours between songs; the constant influx of newly arriving patrons resulted in my being pushed further and further back in the queue. (Most professional karaoke hosts work new singers into the rotation in a staggered manner.) The unacceptably long wait to sing my second song of the evening was upsetting to me, and led me to avoid Dimples during a subsequent visit to Los Angeles in 2012.

In recent years, it wasn’t just me who’d been turned off by Dimples. The bar was perceived as being in a state of decline. But it’s recently undergone an extensive makeover that was overseen by the reality television series, “Bar Rescue”. You can read about that overhaul here. The changes that have been made — including a revamping of the bar’s interior and the promotion of a staff member to replace the octogenarian Ferraro as karaoke host — should reinvigorate Dimples. Although I’dĀ  previously felt that I didn’t need to go back to Dimples again, I’m now inclined to give it another chance during my next visit to the area in September 2013. It’s also good to know that a venue with such an illustrious history now has a bright future.

If you enjoy karaoke and your travels bring you anywhere near Los Angeles, you should give strong consideration to spending an evening at Dimples. At the very least, you’ll be able to say that you sang at the place that introduced Daisuke Inoue’s invention to North America. Note that if you go, the renovated interior will look considerably different, and much less garish, than in the photo and videos above.

Categories: North America, World Karaoke Tour | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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