Before I explain the event, let me tell you that these eleven or so folks are up for anything and always looking for a good time. We get together to do a social activity once a month and so, when I volunteered to host for August, the wheels were already churning: what could I possibly do that was new and fun, but different? (And, hey, it’s been so bleeding hot outside for so long, why not put on some extra layers of clothes?! But seriously.)
The karaoke part was easy. There are several singers in the group and everyone loves music, and since Steve bought the expensive equipment and sound system (a few years ago during one of his ADD, compulsive buys—not that I, the karaoke queen, was complaining) it hasn’t been used, communally, that often. Also, a few had tried to join us at RAFB to catch the Wednesday night sessions, but the entertainment company that had sponsored karaoke lost their contract. It was not renewed. The program is gone with nothing in its place.
Well, if these people are music fans, they love food even more—and I had to think of what I could cook for the troops that wouldn’t be tricky (and hadn’t been done already), hence the taco bowl (to rhyme with rock-n-roll?). So, yesterday, while at the grocery--where meat department staff were removing the ground turkey, in case it had been processed at the plant where salmonella was found and had been attributed to 30 reported cases to date--I bought a gigantic roll of beef, freshly made tortillas that you can only find in southern Texas and Mexico, grated cheese and all the fixings—plus the ingredients to make my homemade Sangria, and a case of beer. (And, it's a potluck of side dishes or dessert so there'll be plenty else to graze on.)
The invitees had responded to the RSVP almost immediately after I had posted it, but the questions started rolling in about the costuming. There were just enough inquiries that I started worrying about what the devil I was going to be. (It had been my bright idea, although I had put almost no thought into how I was going to pull it off for myself.) I had told everyone to dress as (a) his/her favorite singer or band member or (b) as representative of a favorite era/kind of music. But, after the initial hiccup, I could see the lightbulbs going off and, from the secretiveness that followed, I can only guess that this is going to be one hell of a game of dress up from some inventive minds. (My favorite comment on what to wear and who to be goes to our friend, Pam: “I don’t have enough in back to go as JLo or enough in front to be Dolly Parton.” And, of course, Kathy suggested to a couple: “You could go as Chas Bono, and your wife as Charity Bono. You know, the Before and After.”)
We will see tomorrow what the night drags in, but there was one final reason for the costume requirement. I read an article about Beyonce Knowles where she admitted it is not she we see performing when we watch a Beyonce music video, but Sasha Fierce, her alter ego. . .In the same way, at the karaoke party, perhaps, a sober person who feels too shy to sing will be able to—behind the guise of an infamous persona and wig—cut up and belt one of the hits from whomever it is that the get-up is honoring. Chances are, if you come dressed as Patsy, you will know a Cline song. --Oh, one final rule: don your Diva wear, but leave the attitude at home.