The thing about karaoke is that you either love it or you hate it.  There’s really no ambivalent feelings where the art of singing cheesy ’80s songs to an audience of completer strangers is concerned.  I happen to be in the first camp of people, the camp that kind of

Dancing around in my room playing air guitar is one of my guilty pleasures. When the chorus hits and you’re all alone, and there is nothing to do but belt out that Journey song…indeed a magical moment. But faking fellatio in front of a packed house at the Independent? That