My friend Kitty and I went miniature golfing one day and, inside the area where you pay for your round of golf, there was a recording studio. In this studio they made it possible for anyone to make their own recording of any song from any artist for a relatively cheap price. I decided that I would like to try a song from my favorite artist Michael Jackson (whom I shall affectionately refer to as MJ throughout this piece), so I chose to sing the song “Beat It”. What a misguided idea, as no one can replace MJ (especially me), but I have to admit that I did have some fun doing it.
When I entered the recording booth, I was given a pair of headphones, which I put on before the start of the song. I could hear faintly the background music, but nothing else through the headphones. I began to sing (oh boy, if MJ heard that bit today, I just know that he would roll over in his grave from laughter before coming to haunt me for butchering his song!), and I continued to sing with gusto, while I was at first oblivious to the horrified look on Kitty’s face, and her vehement motions for me to lower my voice. I apparently was not singing “Beat It”, but it was more like I was screaming the song out of key, and I could not hear myself. To make matters worse, the recording technicians thought that they would have some fun with me and play my recording on the public speaking system for all to hear no matter where they were playing golf. For some reason, I finally saw my friend’s expression and her motions, and I lowered my voice and continued to sing, though not hearing myself, as low in volume as I possibly could, till the end of the song.
Once I had finished singing, I took off my headphones, and Kitty told me that she could not believe that I had done that. She told me that everyone in the whole miniature golf course heard my LOUD recording and were staring (thanks a lot , guys!). I , of course, was oblivious to that, because all that I could hear was the accompaniment that was played in the earphones. My poor friend Kitty looked so embarrassed as I was singing, that I should have suspected that something was wrong, and I should have stopped singing sooner. Nothing was as humbling, however, as actually hearing my performance played back. I was so so embarrassed, especially to think that the whole golf course heard it, and I hope that it is not played back for MJ in heaven, or his ghost will definitely come back to tell me to “quit it, yeh, quit it!…..”
To this day my friend and I continue to laugh at my failed attempt to imitate MJ. Every time we hear the song “Beat It!”, we look at each other and laugh, remembering that day so long ago when we were at that recording studio in the miniature golf course.
I dedicate this story with love to Michael Jackson, my favorite recording artist, and inspiration