Karaoke Win

According to my extensive Wikipedia research, there are 35,684 "song rooms"--or private karaoke rooms--currently operating in South Korea. Everyday 1.9 million Koreans sing their hearts out to a room of their nearest and dearest. In Ann Arbor, Michigan, there are currently two operating song rooms visited by at least four people in a given night. And yes, those four people were me and three friends. 

Stephanie's sole (to my knowledge) birthday wish for her celebratory girls' night out was to karaoke for the first time. Her wish was my command...

...if by "karaoke" she meant to gather in a tiny private room above a nondescript Korean cafe while belting out terrible (by which I mean awesome) songs as song lyrics bounced along a flat screen TV that simultaneously broadcast a series of tragic Korean dramas that were completely at odds with our cheerful karaoke songs. In short, it was amazing. 

 Let's just say that there was a tambourine involved. And diva hands.

  And yes, even the Macarena. 

Well done team, well done. We discovered that the best karaoke song of the evening was, hands down, "That Thing You Do" (I dare you not to sing along to that, so catchy!). We even scored a 99/100 on that one (this karaoke place scores how well you do on each song, Rock Band-style). Have you ever been karaoke'ing? If so, what is your go-to song? My shortlist = Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" or Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline."

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The Ultimate Fail

This weekend we went on Warren's idea of the The Best Date in the History of Dates, i.e.: a professional ultimate frisbee game. Yes, folks, you heard me. Professional Ultimate Frisbee. Though it may sound like an oxymoron to many, to Warren it was paradise, as proven by the following photo where he has become possessed by Ultimate fanaticism:

Now I have nothing against Ultimate, per se, but I do think it's kind of ridiculous, generally speaking. Warren, on the other hand, could not stop advertising the fact that we were going to a "pro game" to pretty much everyone we spoke to. Of the 25 odd people he invited to the "pro game," a whopping 0 accompanied us. We pulled up to the Silverdome, former host of the Detroit Lions, Pistons, and an N*Sync concert back in the day, and discovered that it bore an uncanny resemblance to the abadoned lots peppered throughout Detroit. Welcome home, Ultimate Frisbee fans, welcome home. 

 Because of the few cars, the weed-infested pavement, and general look of disrepair, we thought that we had a) arrived at the wrong venue b) arrived on the wrong date. Turns out we were wrong on both counts. Indeed, we were right where we belonged. Strolling into the cavernous stadium, we were greeted by a sea of empty seats. In its heyday, the dome accomodated literally 80,000+ fans. Now, as the official home of the Detroit Mechanix Ultimate team, it comfortably sat about 50. 

I'm sorry to say that the losses were abundant at this "pro game," not the least of which included the Mechanix's ultimate loss at the hands of their Kentucky rivals, the Bluegrass Revolution. But there were also the "professional" cheerleaders to take into consideration, who put on a halftime show of about two and half minutes to the Footloose theme song. Impressive. 

The sole win of the evening? Meeting Rusty the Wrench, the Mechanix's mascot (naturally). Oh, and I also got some French fries and saw a guy that looked strikingly like my little brother (front of the line):

Thanks, Rusty! But at least Warren left a very happy camper. And we can cross "pro ultimate game" off of our bucket list. Just in time too, as this was the last game of the season (and, from the unfortunate looks of things, the last of the league's short-lived existence). Go, Mechanix!

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There's That Rock'n'Roll Cowboy! Elvis Fest!!!

Friends, the day we had been counting down to for the past four months finally arrived and it did not disappoint. But before we could revel in the magic that is The King, we ate dinner at Ann Arbor's famed burger joint, Bagger Dave's, where Warren was equally awed by the toy train tooling around the ceiling perimeter and the massive build your own burger. The fries (and sweet potato chips) are the bomb, as my expression clearly states.

Then we moseyed over to Ypsilanti to the charming Depot Town for the piece de resistance.

The first thing we saw upon entering the festival grounds was this (and our hearts leaped for joy):

 

People, I mean, seriously, just look at that gold studded gem! The cape! The scarf! The mutton chops! This ETA--or Elvis Tribute Artist, a full-time professional Elvis impersonator--had some serious talent, exhibited by his hip shaking and signature one-armed windmill move.

Though the impersonating was spectacular, my favorite part about Elvis Fest was the crowd. For instance, where else can one see not one but TWO Elvis print skirts?

What about an Elvis tattoo? And dozens of Elvis-print Hawaiian shirts? (The ladies below are my absolute fave! They came in from Dayton, Ohio, a whole busload of them wearing Blossom-style flowered hats and grooving like the best groupies. And man, they were fun! A pair of them even forced Warren and me to slow dance to a Jerry Lee Lewis impersonator singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" because we were "such a young, attractive couple.")

Some other Kodak Moments that had to be captured for their magical properties:

 

 

And this if the very reason why I love the Midwest so much. How can you not, with an annual Elvis Fests to look forward to?

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