March 22, 2006
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Karaoke is supposed to be something you do in bars. There can be more than that – believe me. It is good with groups of friends and family. It is fun with children. It has possibilities for large groups of like-minded people.
It beats Mitch Miller. But that was long ago.
A few years ago at Christmastime, my daughter gave me a “singing machine” which is another name for karaoke. She knew I loved to sing and was a jazz singer in high school and college days. I was thrilled. Went out and bought some Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Andy Williams, Perry Como, etc. background music – headed home, hooked it up to the television so I could follow the words and started singing.
Mostly love songs to Jo Ann but on occasion, when she wasn’t around, I would just sing. To my surprise, it was incredibly therapeutic. I could really let go. Stretch my voice to do things I didn’t think I could do. Get transported by the music to feelings that surprised me. It was a meditative experience, closely resembling prayer.
Maybe that’s a stretch. But singing is a wondrous thing. It unquestionably touches and reflects the soul.