Well, that was a happy word coincidence since tonight I did a smidge of bopping. I'm a self-conscious dancer though, so I never actually try to move to any beat until I am so inebriated that the chances of my brain being able to pick up and respond to a rhythm are a little slender. So I didn't do very much of that, though one inebriated fellow bopper did choose to dance in a way that had I felt less charitable could have involved the police, or at the very least a lawsuit. Beware strong drink.
The best thing about this particular venue, however, was the presence of Rockaoke, a singer-less band that specialise in providing full on pop-rock backing in order for random vocalists to experience “live karaoke”.
A few years ago a friend from work was supplying the same service for our annual Christmas party. This had gone so well that I suggested to him the potential for turning the skill into a money-making venture. “Maybe”, he said. “But I wouldn't enjoy it.”
After being invited along to Rockaoke, I forwarded him a link to their promotional site, thinking to remind him of that long-distant conversation.
“That's a good idea,” he said.
Oh well. At least I got to sing Brown Eyed Girl yet again. A song which has massive resonance in my life, or would if any women I'd been out with had actually had brown eyes. I'm still looking, obviously.
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