Kelly Slater, Tony Hawk, and Shaun White Walk Into A Car…

You know how, sometimes, when you’re having a hard day and it feels like everything is going wrong, how you’ll just kind of drift off into space and think about the way you wish your life could be? Say to yourself, “Man, I wish I could watch Tony Hawk and Kelly Slater and Shaun White sit in a car and sing terribly and talk about stuff. That’d really turn this day around. Flip my frown upside down.”

I know that’s happened to me a few times. Or I assume it has. I have stupid ideas all the time. Far more stupid than trapping those three in a moving box and having them sing along to hits. Like my idea for a shop which is called Bee’d Store. I’d have a bunch of beads on display in the window to lure in the type of woman who makes tacky jewelry, and a cute cartoon bee for a mascot. Once they’re inside the doors will lock and they’ll realize that the name did not refer to the shiny bits of glass but, rather, a swarm of agitated bees.

“You’ve been bee’d!” I’ll cry, before offering to unlock the door in exchange for a fee.

Anyway, I don’t like karaoke. I used to, before I moved to Hawaii. But I enjoyed the part where you get hammered and sing poorly in front of strangers. In Hawaii it’s this whole Asian deal where everyone is somehow a good singer and knows all the words to their favorite songs. People rent out private rooms and sing to their friends. The first time I went to one I kinda thought it was going to be a drug thing. But, no, just singing. The only drugs around were the ones I brought with me.

One time a woman actually put her hand over my mouth while I was performing a god-awful rendition of “Just a Gigolo” by David Lee Roth. I’d forgotten the song is more than six minutes long and was at the point where I wanted nothing more than to set down the microphone and walk away. But I try to make a point of never quitting something I’ve begun.

Nevertheless, it was very rude and I was absolutely mortified. Like pointing out a weird dick at a nude beach. It just isn’t done. We’re all just here to have fun. Keep your judgments to yourself.

If you go with the same group of people enough times you’ll realize they all have their go-to numbers. Songs they’ve got down pat. Because they don’t want to sound like shit. Which I can’t help. Partially because I have a deep voice and struggle to hit a wide variety of notes. And also because I don’t listen to much music. I like music, but not as much as everyone else seems to. I don’t know why that is.

Funnily enough, I adore musical theater. If places had songs from The Music Man or Bye Bye Birdie or even Les Miserables I’d be all good. But they never do. They only have “Summer Nights” from Grease, so if pressed I’ll sing the female half because it’s easy and never fails to get a laugh and people will almost always start singing along and drown me out.

But, as a rule, I try to avoid karaoke.

Here’s Tony Hawk, Kelly Slater, and Shaun White sitting in a car, singing terribly, and talking about stuff. (Full version available with Apple Music.)