Hosting on a Sunday Evening

As a result of my Obama-ordered work cessation program, I have not had my standard salary and have been more eager than ever to locate alternate revenue streams.

I'm out of kidneys, so I was back to hosting karaoke on Sunday night.

Normally the upstairs at Ozzies is only open on Friday and Saturday (to deal with the Bro Overflow on weekends). Every once in a while, however, a group or individual makes arrangements to have a private party upstairs, and a subset of those occasions results in me being the host.

Sunday night was one such occasion.

The party kicked off, as I understood it, at 9:00. I arrived at 8:34 to set up the scene, which involves turning on televisions and hooking up microphones and drinking about four gallons of ice water. (The ice water is critical... don't ask.)

To my surprise, people had already arrived for the party. There were three of them, including the host of the party.

In some situations, I could see myself being irked; I prefer to drink my ice water in isolation. The people that were there were very kind, though, and eager to sing some karaoke. Which is good.

What is not good is that no one else showed up for another hour, so it was the four of us, hanging out. Well... they were hanging out. I was checking my txts and email on my phone.

After others started showing up, the party got going and the host made an announcement. If I remember correctly, he said two things:

1. It was his pink ticket party. I wasn't sure what that was until about two minutes ago, when I googled it.
   
2. It was his one-year anniversary of coming out of the closet.

Oh, yeah. I didn't mention that he was gay.

999 out of a thousand times I would not mention this... it's simply not that big of a deal unless it involves someone hitting on me (and then, irrespective of gender, sexual preference, or favorite flavor of ice cream, it's a big deal).

But while I guess I just mentioned he was gay, I didn't mention he was gay. See the bold formatting? That's for emphasis.

And I'd like to emphasize that there's nothing wrong with being gay. Or gay. I am willing to pull a Seinfeld (meaning "There's nothing wrong with that", not meaning some sort of euphemism for a homosexual act)... and I'm not even someone who says, "What they do in the privacy of their own home is their business; I just don't want to see them do it." I like that people are happy and feel empowered and if they feel gay? Be gay.

It's cool.

With all of this being said? I must confess that the party I hosted was atypical.

Normally? Lots of 80's pop. Standards like Bohemian Rhapsody and Bon Jovi and Total Eclipse of the Heart. I roll my eyes when I hear it, but it's familiar.

Sunday night? Show tunes.

Show.

Tunes.

I didn't even know there was a song in the book from "Chicago". Let alone two. "Rent"? "Phantom of the Opera"?

If a group comes into Ozzies in a couple weeks and starts singing a bunch of middle ages gregorian chants that they found in the "Songs by Artist" book, I'll be only slightly less surprised.

The thing is that the vast majority of the singers at the party were good. Some were very, very good. Almost shockingly good. If I hadn't been shocked at the content they were singing, I might have been more shocked at the talent level.

Back to the host. The host danced to many of these songs. Many, many of these songs. It got me to wondering about what he'd said about it being his one year anniversary of his coming out, and it got me to thinking one word. That word?

"Really???"

I find it almost impossible to believe that, in a single calendar year, he could learn so many show tunes to the point of knowing them ALL word-for-word and having a special dance for about 50% of them.

Of course, it's conceivable that he already had a little bit of knowledge of show tunes, and that helped nudge him out of the closet, but it amused me to think that he'd been cramming (err...) for a year following his debut at the homosexual cotillion (or however it's done) and was listening to soundtracks of musicals non-stop, preparing for Sunday night.

The night went great. People had a great time. I was both amused and bemused (but not c-mused) throughout and I look forward to the next private party I am able to host.

I've got my fingers crossed for Gregorian chanters!