World According to George

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By George Hawrylenko I suppose it all depends on who you ask. Some people see it as a harmless form of entertainment. Others will claim that it's a clever punishment aimed at the only nation to have used atomic bombs over populated areas. As for myself, I see it as the confession booth for a new age. A machine that broadcasts your Freudian slips for everyone to hear. I am, of course, referring to the plague that is karaoke. Now, I doubt that there's anyone under the age of 80 who doesn't know what karaoke is. It's that technological nuisance that helped move bad singers from the privacy of their own showers out into the drunken public eye. So, if you've ever wondered what shoving a crystal chandelier into a wood chipper sounds like, I recommend that you visit your local tavern on any Thursday night and find out for yourself. Admittedly, I did once fall under karaoke's baffling spell. With a bottle's worth of courage and the kind of voice that can only be found in a pack of Marlboros, I belted out what was supposed to be the song Five to One, by The Doors. Although my slurring of the lyrics was very acid rock, I guess you'd say that I still made a pretty big fool of myself. Fortunately, the spin doctor running the show that night offered me a pat on the back and a reminder that Jim Morrison also gained a lot of weight right before he died. Nice. Anyway, I recently had another karaoke experience that opened up a whole new level of appreciation for this dastardly barroom habit. You see, the club that I was in sported these giant screens that not only gave the pseudo-performers the opportunity to embarrass themselves, but also provided a clear view of the lyrics to any tin ear in the crowd that wanted to sing along. While I refrained from heading up to the chopping block myself, I did mouth along to the words and discovered a very curious thing - I don't really know the words to a lot of my favorite songs. Neither, it seems, does anybody else. When it comes to famously misheard lyrics, there are a few songs that seem to confuse even the most die-hard fans. Take for example, Jimi Hendrix's famous Purple Haze misquote, &#8220S'cuse me, while I kiss this guy.” Not only did this lyrical distortion bring Jimi's sexuality into question, but it also seems to have started a new era in which fans unknowingly rewrite their favorite songs. Another famous case involves the Billy Joel tune, &#8220You May Be Right.” Here, the line &#8220You may be right, I may be crazy” is sometimes replaced with &#8220You make the rice, I make the gravy.” At first, I thought the lyrical confusion defied explanation, but a closer look at the person on the mic made me realize that they were simply suffering from a severe case of the munchies. Bon Jovi's contribution to the most misheard lyrics list comes from their tune, &#8220Livin' On A Prayer.” The song sports the words &#8220doesn't make a difference if we make it or not.” To the lyrically challenged, the line sometimes comes out as &#8220doesn't make a difference if we're naked or not.” Granted, this may be the nation's new anthem for safe sex, but it might have been more fitting if the song wasn't part of an album titled Slippery When Wet. Another hard rock band that suffers from chronic lyric confusion is AC/DC. Admittedly, their song, &#8220Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” doesn't exactly lend itself to a pleasant musical image, but the karaoke translation of &#8220dirty deeds done with sheep” manages to somehow stoop to a level that even AC/DC could have never imagined. Nonetheless, the tune still seems to be popular in out-of-the-way western bars. As embarrassing as such misquotes can be, I believe that we have tapped into something that karaoke's inventors never intended to expose. Like I said earlier, it seems to be a new-age version of the confession booth. Privacy aside, the song you pick to sing in front of a tavern full of strangers really does say a lot about you. The lyrics you change can say even more. It's electric religion at its finest. So, the next time you feel the need to follow the bouncing ball, be sure to play it safe. If possible, try to review the lyrics beforehand. If not, go ahead and pick In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida from the playlist. Sure, it may be 17 minutes long, but no one knows the words to the stupid thing anyway.