Karaoke: Harmless fun or work of the Devil?

When it comes to music, I’m polymorphous and indiscriminate—I’ll listen to anything. My record collection contains tracks as diverse as Miles Davis, Rammstein, The Ink Spots, Perry Como, NIN, Rob Zombie, Berlioz, Etta James and every single tune set to vinyl by Bob Brock & the B-Tones (best polka band in West Michigan, baby—nobody plays “The Chicken Dance” better’n the B-Tones!).

I love great vocalists (Pavarotti, Sinatra, Freddie Mercury); I love lousy vocalists (Dylan, Petty, The Lovely Mrs. Taylor in the shower).

What I don’t love, when it comes to music—and I use that word ever so loosely—is karaoke. Karaoke is, put simply, the work of the Devil.

If there is a hell, I’m sure the soundtrack features a half-drunk traveling window shade salesman singing the karaoke version of “There’s Got to Be a Morning After” into a microphone somebody purchased at Wal-Mart for $3.95.

The only good thing about karaoke is this: It’s easy to avoid. If I see a “Karaoke! Every Wednesday” sign in the window of a bar or restaurant, I know to go somewhere else on Wednesdays. A simple, elegant solution.

Until now.

The Japanese, who invented karaoke in the first place as a way of getting back at Americans for making fun of their high math scores, have come up with a new, even more diabolical, product—portable karaoke.

The “Hi-kara” karaoke machine is a 3-inch cube that works just like its full-sized siblings. Background music and words are downloaded off the Internet, and then a small screen displays the lyrics while the music plays.

According to Shigekazu Mihashi, marketing director for Takara Tomy, which manufactures the Hi-kara, the target audience for the device is middle-school age girls. And we all know the great taste in music possessed by most girls in middle school. (OMG! It’s Brittney!)

My own daughter, at that age, once forced me to take her to a concert featuring Tiffany and New Kids on the Block. I still wake up screaming in the night, reliving that concert in much the same way a ‘Nam vet might relive Kham Duc.

At any rate, it won’t be long until 7th-grade girls everywhere get their hands on the Hi-kara. Busses, airports, movie queues, McDonald’s, grocery stores—no place will be safe from the legions of Slumber Party Girls wannabes belting out squeaky, off-key versions of “Hit Me Baby One More Time.”

I may not have to wait until the afterlife to hear the Hades soundtrack after all.

More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike at mtaylor325@gmail.com.