As you know, once a week I head over to the edge of North Beach to commune with nature. As well as to observe drunks and people suffering dementia, and delusional behaviours. Stuff that reminds me why we need to summon the space ships to take us home. My friend the bookseller and myself have been doing this for several years now.
In my case, no alcohol is involved.
For him, it doesn't help.
Hamburger place, bar, karaoke joint.
Karaoke wasn't a thing back in the day. Lamentably, now it is. And white people have discovered it, giving new life to Elton John's oeuvre as well as John Denver, Emerson Lake and Palmer, Celine Dion, and The Eagles.
In addition to Michael Jackson, whom we hoped had been dead and forgotten a long time ago.
"I've had a long day and I hate Michael Jackson, man."
"Get out of my 'peace-loving' cab."
In all honesty, no one should sing karaoke. It's an opportunity for sensible people to step outside to smoke their pipes, and others to make spectacles of themselves. Tonight, the stupidest Chinese waiter in San Francisco was at the microphone. He's worse than Johnny's idiot little brother.
He really, really, really can't sing.
One of these days I may need to fight him for the microphone. I am a kind and altruistic man, and feel deeply for my fellow humans.
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