Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Story Time
Today I was listening to some Tori Amos and it reminded me of a story that I'd like to share. I don't know why I was listening to Tori Amos. I vaguely remembered that she had some "hit" songs in the 90's. So I thought I might enjoy listening to her. I was way wrong. Yes, there are a few songs I recognize, some of which aren't bad. But overall? Suck city. It's basically just Tori and a piano. That would work if your name was Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin (and to a lesser extent Harry Connick Jr.). But if your name is Tori Amos? You might want to add some percussion. And maybe a different singer. In fact, all Tori should be doing is shaking a tambourine in the background while Lemme (from Motorhead) cranks out a rockin' tune.
I'm not a big fan of piano-based music. Billy Joel's good and so is Ben Folds. Jerry Lee Lewis rocks, but he was crazy. I like crazy. (Which should surprise nobody who knows The Wife. Hey-o!) Anyway, bad piano music brings me to my story.
Years ago, The Wife and I decided to go skiing in Western Michigan. We met up with a bunch of her friends from college that night and went drinking. They wanted to go to a piano bar, and I didn't object. In case you've never been to a piano bar, let me explain the set-up. There are two pianos with two dualing pianists. Pianist #1 starts playing (and singing, as the case may be). If you have a request, you go up to Pianist #2 and give him money. Then he cuts off Pianist #1 and plays your song. Until someone pays off Pianist #1 to cut off your song. And so the evening goes all night. You pay, they play.
Most of the night was spent with morons paying the Pianists to play either the Michigan, Michigan State, or Ohio State fight songs. (It was 2 of the 3. I honestly don't remember which, nor do I care.) I got drunk (shocker!) and decided to create my own fun. So I started heckling the pianists the only way I knew how. I'd shout at the top of my lungs (during the quiet parts, of course) for songs. Any song would do, but I stuck to my favorites: "Rock Lobster," "Black Betty," and "Blinded by the Light."
What made this so fun for me is that it worked on multiple levels. On the surface, I annoyed the pianists by requesting lame songs. What I didn't intend (but thoroughly enjoyed) was that it annoyed EVERYONE ELSE at the bar. I had people coming up to me all night explaining that I had to pay the Pianists money to get my songs played. Then I got to explain to them that I didn't want my songs played. This only confused them further. Which led to me requesting even MORE songs.
It really should be illegal for someone like me to have so much fun simply by yelling song titles. But I honestly don't know if it gets any better than annoying a bar full of strangers and then confusing the poor souls who think I don't understand what I'm doing. It was hard to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl all night.
I'm not a big fan of piano-based music. Billy Joel's good and so is Ben Folds. Jerry Lee Lewis rocks, but he was crazy. I like crazy. (Which should surprise nobody who knows The Wife. Hey-o!) Anyway, bad piano music brings me to my story.
Years ago, The Wife and I decided to go skiing in Western Michigan. We met up with a bunch of her friends from college that night and went drinking. They wanted to go to a piano bar, and I didn't object. In case you've never been to a piano bar, let me explain the set-up. There are two pianos with two dualing pianists. Pianist #1 starts playing (and singing, as the case may be). If you have a request, you go up to Pianist #2 and give him money. Then he cuts off Pianist #1 and plays your song. Until someone pays off Pianist #1 to cut off your song. And so the evening goes all night. You pay, they play.
Most of the night was spent with morons paying the Pianists to play either the Michigan, Michigan State, or Ohio State fight songs. (It was 2 of the 3. I honestly don't remember which, nor do I care.) I got drunk (shocker!) and decided to create my own fun. So I started heckling the pianists the only way I knew how. I'd shout at the top of my lungs (during the quiet parts, of course) for songs. Any song would do, but I stuck to my favorites: "Rock Lobster," "Black Betty," and "Blinded by the Light."
What made this so fun for me is that it worked on multiple levels. On the surface, I annoyed the pianists by requesting lame songs. What I didn't intend (but thoroughly enjoyed) was that it annoyed EVERYONE ELSE at the bar. I had people coming up to me all night explaining that I had to pay the Pianists money to get my songs played. Then I got to explain to them that I didn't want my songs played. This only confused them further. Which led to me requesting even MORE songs.
It really should be illegal for someone like me to have so much fun simply by yelling song titles. But I honestly don't know if it gets any better than annoying a bar full of strangers and then confusing the poor souls who think I don't understand what I'm doing. It was hard to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl all night.
