shame and horror: why it rained last night

We finally had our long-planned Videoke night over at Music 21. In attendance: Carl, Tobie, Vin, El, asphyxiating Charles, Nikki and myself.

In the haze of a smoky room (and really, poor Charles looked like a Hong Kong resident at height of SARS, with his hanky clutched vainly over his nose), we took turns belting out stress, in solo, duet, or group mode, just enjoying the opportunity to unwind and bask in the laughter of friends.

El, with his "I have the voice of an innocent young boy" had us, the older guys, wanting to immediately corrupt him. I told him that soon, he'd be mining the songs he heard his parents sing, because, really, the songbooks are riddled with songs of an older generation. But Vin was delighted because he found in El someone willing to sing those atrocious boy band songs that we previously only tolerated and sang with ill-concealed disdain.

Song were shared and stolen and sung with gusto or misguided melodies. What a night.

Sana maulit muli.