Free Nelson Mandela Karaoke
12:23 PM(As it would seem, I have faced an utter lack of updates on the blog lately. For this, I am completely apologetic. To compensate the lull I am posting an old piece from the novel that I was working on. At one point this was on the blog, removed and I am once again posting it for old times sake. To those of you who get it-- thank you, I hope it made you laugh. To those of you who don't-- thank you for bearing with me. We'll get back to the usual soon. As ever, Ana)
Spencer began to write down the song title with it's corresponding number but came to an abrupt stop, his pen thoughtlessly falling free from the karaoke form.
"Holy! Fuck!" He exclaimed loudly enough to turn a few heads and attract fleeting interest.
His brown eyes went wide and glassy.
"Everybody up!" He commanded, "Everybody up! Grab your beers. I'll take the cupcakes," He shoved the karaoke binder under his arm, took his beer into one hand and the container of cupcakes into the other, "Ladies, get your purses."
"Where are we going?" I asked as we all scrambled from the booth, gathering our personal belongings as we went along.
We moved like he had screamed Fire! without questioning why and I realized that in Spencer's own way, he was quite persuasive. It was easy to trust the goodness in him.
"The stage."
"Why?"
"Why does anyone go to the stage, Audrey, my dear? To sing."
"All of us?"
"It requires all of us."
Anne and Henry went pale with terror.
"Why are we taking our things with us?" I was suddenly suspicious and rightly so.
"Because there is a good chance that when we are finished, we'll have to make a quick exit... because we'll no longer be welcome here."
"Spencer," Adrian tried reason, "What's this about?"
Spencer begrudgingly set down his beer and the cupcakes, then removed the binder from under his arm. He opened the book and pointed out his selection to Adrian.
Adrian tucked in his lips, lifted his eyebrows and began to nod very slowly.
"Hmmphf," He let out a noise of surprise. It was clear that he, like Spencer, was in awe and disbelief of what he was seeing.
"And if you put your hair in your eyes, no one will recognize you and your publicist won't have to do any extra work in the morning," Spencer assured him.
"Spencer, you do realize everything that could be socially, ethically, politically and possibly, eh, morally questionable about this, right?"
"Why else do you think that I'd have everyone gather up their personal affects? Besides, how questionable could it possibly be? The man's been out of prison for eighteen years... and he shouldn't have even been there in the first place. We're doing the world a great service when you think about it... or at least the people sitting in this bar."
"I know that I have blindly agreed to this and therefore owe you but you might care to inquire with the other people that you'll be humiliating."
Spencer threw his arm around Adrian's shoulders.
"You sound brilliant, Adrian, and I love you for it. I'm sure that the other people involved won't have a problem with it. Henry, do you support apartheid?"
"What?" Henry asked, making sure that he had heard the question correctly. It was not a question that one expects to hear on any day and especially not spouted off so casually.
"Are you for or against apartheid?" Spencer repeated.
Henry froze, not sure of what to make of this.
"See, he's dead against it," Spencer gestured, "So, obviously, Henry is in and Anne will do it because it's Audrey's almost birthday."
"And what about Audrey?" Adrian inquired, "What purpose does she have for contributing?"
They both looked over at me. Spencer studied me then smiled.
"She adores me and that's reason enough, isn't it, Audrey?"
I couldn't disagree with his statement, so far I did adore him.
"What have we lent ourselves to?" I quesitoned.
He rested his finger on the title. Anne, Henry and I crowded around to get a look then each lifted our head with an uncertain frown.
Free Nelson Mandela in the style of The Specials.
"Spencer..."
"If they didn't want us to sing it, they wouldn't have put it in the book and there wouldn't even be a karaoke version of it had someone not wanted to sing it in the first place," He explained, "I mean, I can't see what the problem is. It would be vain of us to assume that we were the first and, Audrey, are we not beyond such vanities?"
He winked at me. I took Anne by the hand and led her forward, we had no choice but to go on.
Spencer held the karaoke book open for the DJ.
"We'd like to do this one. Can we go on right away?"
"Maggie's Farm?" The DJ asked.
"No, the one below it."
The DJ read the title and looked taken aback.
"Nelson Mandela."
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"The five of you?"
"It requires at least five. You do have it, don't you?"
The DJ chuckled and shook his head.
"Oh, I have it. Go on up."
"Thanks. Cupcake?" Spencer offered.
"No thanks."
Spencer and Adrian climbed the stage followed by Henry. The DJ took a look at Anne and I, then smiled.
"I see you have your drinks-- probably need them."
We arranged ourselves on stage. Anne, Henry and I on stage left, sharing one microphone on a stand. Adrian and Spencer stood center stage with Spencer holding the microphone.
As the DJ went through his files to find the song, I sort of practiced shifting my weight from foot to foot and snapping my fingers in intervals.
"What are you doing?" Anne asked in embarrassed bewilderment.
"I'm trying to remember how the back up singers did it in the video, don't you remember? It was like a shoop shoop dance."
"Oh yeah," Henry recalled, then attempted to match up with his recollection, "Like this."
We attempted to get our rigid, thin, pale American bodies to match up rhythmically.
"You're always in it for a good show, Audrey," Anne laughed.
"I've been reading this Suzi Quatro biography and I really think that this is what she would've done were she in this situation."
"You mean, facing bar bannishment?" Anne replied as she tried to match Henry and I, who didn't even remotely match each other, "You're lucky that you don't live here. This is going to narrow down the places that we're allowed to hang out."
The DJ interrupted us.
"Please welcome back to the stage, Spencer and, now, his friends performing Free Nelson Mandela in the style of The Specials."
At first the crowd wasn't sure that they heard correctly. Some paused in their drinks, some shot up confused looks but the eyes didn't grow wide with shock until we started to murder the harmony.
"Frrrrrrreeeeeeeee Nelson Mandellllllllaaaaaaaaaaaa..."
Anne went high, I went flat, Henry half spoke, Adrian sounded smooth and drawn out like a lounge singer and completely inappropriate given the material at hand and Spencer... well, Spencer put us all to indescribable shame either because he was so horrendous that he was good or that he was so good that he was, in fact, actually good.
Spencer pushed Adrian's hair in front of his face then fucked us all when he tried to do a talk down during the first instrumental section.
"We're here tonight to talk about a cause that is very close to our hearts..."
People's looks turned from shock to utter disgust. There were scattered Boos and some woman yelled out,
"It was not a fucking joke!"
To which Spencer replied,
"I don't hear you singing for the betterment of anything."
And a man yelled in response,
"I wish I didn't hear you at all!"
In my line of work, I was well acquainted with heckling and yelled back,
"We wish we didn't hear him, either!"
Adrian looked over his shoulder at me and smiled, though his eyes were completely obscured by his hair.
Spencer went straight into the verse.
We were all in for a treat because it so happened that Anne, Henry and I weren't the only ones who remembered the music video for the song. While we stood in back doing our little shoop shoop dance, Adrian shuffled his feet (sometimes tripping over them) and Spencer attempted to breakdance, falling to his knees, propelling himself into circles while balancing himself on his hips and using his feet and hands to complete the motion. Halfway through the song, he had exhausted himself and spent most of the remainder on his back, singing up at the ceiling.
The whole while Anne, Henry and I were shoop *snap* shoop *snap* shoop *snap*-ping and Adrian was soft shoeing in his blue Keds.
Spencer clambered to his feet during the last forty-five seconds of the song as the fade out started. He placed the microphone on the stand, drained what was left of his beer, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, stuck one between his lips, handed the container of cupcakes to Adrian then picked me up and carried me from the stage and out of the bar... chortling the whole time.
The rest of the gang was not far behind us, laughing and rouwdy with exhilaration, catching our collective breath on the street corner.
"I believe this belongs to you," Spencer said to Adrian as he set me to my feet beside him.
Spencer lit the cigarette in his mouth on a match and exhaled smoke.
"That was amazing, Spencer," I gushed.
"Yes," Anne agreed.
"I've never done anything like it," Henry snickered.
Spencer waved a hand as though it were nothing. He looked at his watch.
"I better get home before the little lady changes the locks," He said, "It's been a real pleasure."
Spencer shook Henry's hand and gave Anne a hug.
"Happy almost birthday, Audrey," He hugged me and kissed my cheek.
He hugged Adrian, ruffled his hair, kissed the top of his head then ruffled his hair again.
"Give me a call when you get home, Ad."
"I will."
Spencer started to walk away, he made it down the block then called back to Adrian.
"I'm serious!"
"I will!"
"Okay!"
Spencer rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.
1 comments
really good... thanking you...
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