I love to sing and put on a show. I have dreamed of being a rock star since, my brothers and I air-guitared to Van Halen in our childhood basement. I can carry a tune, but I am not America's next Idol. I am more like a clueless contestant from the blooper reel. In college, my friends and I would go to a blue collar bar called the Karaoke Kid, where we watched people believe they were stars; singing Fleetwood Mac while escaping their 9 to 5's. Most of them were horrible, but after a few beers, a few gems would gleem. Since, then I have also been a Karaoke Kid, paying $2 a pop for the poor audience to listen to me.
Last weekend, I discovered a solution to the sad sight and sound of horrible Idol auditions. I like to call it Kommunity Karaoke. It was at a bar called El baul de los recuerdos (The Trunk of Memories) in the Las Gaviotas neighborhood of Cartagena. There are two big screens and the bar tender simply projects videos from YouTube. He chooses Latin classics and songs by request. The customers order drinks at their tables and sing along with the videos. The whole bar is singing the same song. No one customer tortures the audience with amplified off- key notes or elevator music versions of good songs. It's a win- win for everyone. The bar sells lots of drinks and all the customers get to sing for free without embarrassing themselves or causing people's ears to bleed. Kommunity Karaoke is a great new twist on the beloved past time of drunken stardom.