Why I hate the Greek system
Approximately 30 years ago, it is generally agreed, a Japanese man named Daisuke Inoue made one of the greatest inventions in history, though it would be many years later before he was duly recognized for his achievement. This year, Inoue was honored with the 2004 Ig Nobel Peace Prize for his creation of Karaoke.
The citation read, in part, that he was so honored "...for inventing karaoke, thereby providing an entirely new way for people to learn to tolerate each other."
Now, everyone who knows me knows that I am a new convert to karaoke. I once scoffed at it, as did you. I thought, "wow, these people are complete goobers." I honestly scorned the practice, and felt it was Japan's revenge upon us for the War. That is, until I tried it. Then I realized something that made me a karaoke fan: I was good at it! I mean, really good! I know, because I was standing on stage, singing "I Will Survive", and marvelling at how good I sounded. And ever since, I have sought out this ancient art, in bars and...um, other bars, wherever I could find it. Now, I hear yourselves asking, what has this to do with Greek system? The bar where I presently base my singing was closed, not only last night, but also the Wednesday before, for a private party. A Fraternity party. (They were actually wearing togas, when not one of them was born before "Animal House".) So I tried another place nearby, only to find that it, too, was rented out...for a Fraternity party. I'm a citizen. I'm an occasional taxpayer. I'm a good guy, and a bloody great karaoke singer! But because these privileged yobbos have more money than I do, they can dictate how I spend my evening. Is this right? Is this what Inoue-san intended when he first played "Brown-eyed Girl" for some drunken Sony day-workers in a Kobe bar? I think not. Is it Bush's fault? I can't prove that, but rest assured, I'm looking into it.
In the meantime, I'll keep looking for a place where people like me (whatever that is) can do what we do best: entertain people with a glittering rendition of "Piano Man" or "YMCA". And all without a toga.
The citation read, in part, that he was so honored "...for inventing karaoke, thereby providing an entirely new way for people to learn to tolerate each other."
Now, everyone who knows me knows that I am a new convert to karaoke. I once scoffed at it, as did you. I thought, "wow, these people are complete goobers." I honestly scorned the practice, and felt it was Japan's revenge upon us for the War. That is, until I tried it. Then I realized something that made me a karaoke fan: I was good at it! I mean, really good! I know, because I was standing on stage, singing "I Will Survive", and marvelling at how good I sounded. And ever since, I have sought out this ancient art, in bars and...um, other bars, wherever I could find it. Now, I hear yourselves asking, what has this to do with Greek system? The bar where I presently base my singing was closed, not only last night, but also the Wednesday before, for a private party. A Fraternity party. (They were actually wearing togas, when not one of them was born before "Animal House".) So I tried another place nearby, only to find that it, too, was rented out...for a Fraternity party. I'm a citizen. I'm an occasional taxpayer. I'm a good guy, and a bloody great karaoke singer! But because these privileged yobbos have more money than I do, they can dictate how I spend my evening. Is this right? Is this what Inoue-san intended when he first played "Brown-eyed Girl" for some drunken Sony day-workers in a Kobe bar? I think not. Is it Bush's fault? I can't prove that, but rest assured, I'm looking into it.
In the meantime, I'll keep looking for a place where people like me (whatever that is) can do what we do best: entertain people with a glittering rendition of "Piano Man" or "YMCA". And all without a toga.