As many of you know (as I've told nearly everyone I've ever come into contact with) I had an entertainment experience most 3rd grade kids never dreamed of. No, I wasn't on the Mickey Mouse Club with my boo Justin Timberlake. No, I didn't make it onto Bozo's Super Sunday Show (although it was my childhood dream to play the bucket game). But, I did sing with Kenny Rogers. Yes, you heard me right: Kenny Rogers, one of country music's most recognized faces. Well, maybe not technically recognizable anymore due to an overload of plastic surgery. I digress... But yes, it's true. 5 other kids and I hopped up on stage in front of a sold out Sioux Falls Arena to sing in the show "Kenny Rogers: Christmas From The Heart." At the time, I had no clue who the man was, but thought I'd give it a shot and appease the folks. In retrospect, I'm glad I did it, and I still have the Youth Large, hunter green, embroidered crewneck sweatshirt to prove it. It's made an appearance at one or two Ugly Sweater parties around Christmastime...always a good conversation starter.
I remember being nervous before heading on stage, especially since I'd just snagged my black tights. Monica was not impressed. She fixed me up, moved my tights around so the snag wasn't seen, and I headed out on stage with my Madonna microphone. What a rockstar moment. We belted out some Christmas tunes, actions and all. During dress rehearsal that day, we added a new move at the end of the final song. Very simple: right leg and arm out in front of us, left arm up in the air (forgive me for the poor visual). Welp, despite its simplicity, I straight up forgot to do it. Earlier in the day, Kenny mentioned that if we forgot to do the move, we'd owe him $10. So after the screwup, Kenny called me out in front of 6,000 people and told them about the $10 deal. I now owe The Gambler 10 buckeroos. Put it on my bill, Kenny.
By now you may be wondering what the title of this blog entry and Kenny Rogers have in common. Well, this past Saturday night I experienced another nerve wracking entertainment moment. Some of the Shewolf pack and I headed to Grandmother's bar/restaurant. The place was packed with people and karaoke was rocking the joint. One girl was clearly waiting for her big break into the music industry (I will never think of "Sweet Child of Mine" the same). Others belted out showtunes (barf). Although I criticized them, I had no intention of grabbing the mic and showing them up.
A few Boulevards later, my friends decided I was the chosen one from our group to sing. Their justification? I sang with Kenny Rogers. Dangit, I knew bragging about that would bite me in the ass one day. I instantly refused the request, as the place was still packed. As the coaxing continued, I slowly let down my guard and entertained the idea. If I could sing in front of 6,000 people, I could sing in front of 40. Plus, I've decided to be more spontaneous so this could be the perfect opportunity, or at least a great Lincoln memory.
After much debate, we decided on "Sweet Caroline." Kari rushed over to the karaoke man to make the request. I knew it was a solid pick, but I felt I could do better. Then it hit me: "Sweet Home Alabama." It was perfect: I'm moving there next month and that song always fires a crowd up. One hour after our request was made, I heard "Jill, come to the soundtable, Jill." This was it. Although more relaxed than earlier, I still felt a little nauseous as I grabbed the mic.
Those first guitar notes played and I felt like I was back onstage with Kenny. It was my time to shine! I belted the words, clinked beer mugs with a table of dudes, and generally rocked out. Kari and Lauren yelled "Roll Tide Roll" after I'd sing the phrase "Sweet Home Alabama" and it was epic (well done, ladies). The song ended and although it wasn't a perfect performance, I felt amazing. I'd been spontaneous, I'd conquered an initial fear, and I made a memory I'll always look back upon and laugh at. Thanks, Shewolf pack.
So the next time you're in a karaoke bar and you refuse to sing, rethink your decision. Grab a beer, get a great song, imagine the audience in their underwear, and rock out. You may surprise yourself.
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