NIAC Karaoke Benefit at Baja Bargarita

Karaoke Benefit for the Children of NIAC
Baja Bargarita, 115 N. 2nd, Coeur d’Alene

“Well, I sent you a tie clasp, but that was last July…you ain't never cut a record and you ain't no friend of mine.” As soon as the words had slipped through my lips, I realized they somehow seemed a little bit off. My attempt at Elvis’ “Hound Dog” had been sabotaged by the sad handiwork of some random karaoke transcriptionist who obviously had never fully mastered the English language.

Mangled lyrical translations; tinny, Casiotronic musical interpolations of hits that once actually rocked; lurid, beachy graphic elements that randomly float across the TV screen like soft-focus hallucinations from the ‘80s. Just a few of the hazards one may encounter during the karaoke game, but to me they’re essential elements in the overall experience of getting up in front of room full of drunks and belting out the hits of Lady Gaga or Englebert Humperdink.

It can take a lot of spleen and a little old fashioned liquid courage to get behind the mic that first time, but most karaoke virgins usually become hooked as soon as they realize they’re not going to keel over or get savagely heckled. Well, unless I’m in the audience that is.

Those with the desire to carry out their pop star fantasies in public will have a great opportunity to do so this Monday, December 7 when the Lewis-Clark State College Student Organization of Social Workers hosts a karaoke party and raffle to benefit North Idaho AIDS Coalition’s Christmas fund. The action starts 7 p.m. at Baja Bargarita in downtown Coeur d’Alene.

Naturally, the presence of generous-but-tone-deaf souls and those afflicted with permanent stage fright is also requested to cheer on the amateur songbirds, and possibly open their wallets to ensure that the 30 local HIV-positive children who live below the poverty level will have a fruitful visit from jolly old Saint Nick this year.

The idea seed for the event was planted during a meeting of the LCSC Social Work group, when, during a brainstorming session, a couple of girls jokingly suggested the idea of a karaoke party. SOSW member Christa Jennings (pictured left) realized it was something they could maybe actually pull off. Conveniently enough, she actually tends bar for Baja’s busy karaoke nights. She explains, “I got to thinking, hey – I know the perfect place to have it and I know a Karaoke DJ that will probably volunteer, let me see what I can put together and it all just kind of came together from there.”

The first hurdle to clear was making sure LCSC student groups were allowed to include alcoholic beverages in their fund-raisers. As long as the event was to be kept strictly 21-and-over, the school’s group advisor gave it a big thumbs up. Jennings’ says her Baja Bangarita boss Jessi Briseno was “very on board” with the idea and resident karaoke master Jerry Hakala (pictured below left) was more than happy to volunteer his services for the evening.

Jennings, along with Matthew Campbell (pictured above with Jennings), Stacy Kelly and several other LCSC classmates, was able to start piecing together the necessary elements of a successful benefit. The idea was to include a fundraising raffle, so they hit the phones and did some sidewalk surfing in pursuit of donated items. Fortunately, lots of people are in a giving mood this time of year and the group was able to round up quite a few items that should have attendees narrowly avoiding getting trampled in the rush to purchase as many of the $3 raffle tickets as they possibly can.

One of the largest and most interesting prizes is a gift certificate good for brave souls willing to take a parasailing trip over Lake Coeur d’Alene. Other swag includes premium oil changes from Dave Smith Auto, tanning packages from Celestial Tanning, bowling packages, vouchers for professional massages, supplies and lessons from Make Wine Make Beer, hairdos from beauty salons, accessories from trendy downtown boutiques, and some original local artwork.

Reps from local beverage distributor Odom will be on hand as well to keep the energy level high and to donate a ton of promo items emblazoned with beer and liquor brand logos. They’ve been known to show up with some pretty cool gear so this is a no-miss event for collectors of things like Coors Light Snuggies. All proceeds will be donated directly to NIAC, and the president of the student group is actually a NIAC intern and will make sure the cash reaches the kiddos it was meant to benefit.

Says Jennings, “Come check it out. Come help the cause. Come sing a song. It’ll be fun. Hopefully we will get a good turnout and make some money to be able to provide these kids with some decent gifts. We really don’t want to have to settle for the dollar store.”

Karaoke : Tuesday is Moving to Wednesday

Karaoke can be habit forming, and hardcore junkies frequently haunt the same lounges week after week, not only for a momentary fix of sweet stardom, but also to meet with others afflicted with the same addiction. Eventually, bonds form between singers, dramas arise, and it becomes a dysfunctional karaoke family, especially when the evening is accompanied by a $5 bottomless domestic keg special and plenty of Rumple Minz shots.

For the better part of ten years, Tuesday karaoke at ye olde Mik-n-Mac's was one of the busiest nights of the week and was home to my own close-knit karaoke tribe. Our host and "Koala-T" KJ was Jerry, a Neil Diamond lover and an all around nice guy whose mantra between singers is "...and the crowd goes wild." Jerry's fabulous mother Charlene (pictured) always showed up and would amuse us with her many outrageous bar stories and renditions of Roy Orbison and Patsy Cline tunes. We call her "Mom" and she really is our mother figure, bringing baked goods and helping us figure out our lives. Christa was both our bartender and our babysitter, and we must not have driven her too totally cuckoo because she always made a point to request to work on Tuesday nights.

Mik-n-Mac's is now in the history books and it remains to be seen if the new owners will decide to keep karaoke. Thanks to Jessi at Baja Bargarita, our little TV show is rescheduled with a new day and time on a different channel. Baja is beginning karaoke nights on Wednesdays at 7:30 with Jerry KJing, Christa bartending and they're even doing the $5 bottomless keg special. Come down and help break in the new digs, maybe sing your knockout rendition of "Don't Rain On My Parade".

10 Random Songs I've Sung on Karaoke:

1 "Slow Hands" (Interpol) (a recent fave, fun to belt out)
2 "Harmony" (Elton John) (for Sue, its her fave)
3 "Jolene" (Dolly Parton) (in an extra deep voice)
4 "Anarchy in the UK" (Sex Pistols) (only after a LOT of PBR)
5 "I Got You Babe" (Sonny & Cher) (I was always Sonny, Brian was always Cher)
6 "Too Shy" (Kajagoogoo) (always Sam's request)
7 "Ashes to Ashes" (David Bowie) (weirds out the young crowd)
8 "Rock Lobster" (B-52's) (Shannon doing the animal noises)
9 "Angie Baby"(Helen Reddy) (because the lyrics are so odd)
10 "I Know There's Something Going On" Freda (solo Abba duet with Jay)

Mik-n-Mac's Karaoke

Mik-n-Mac's Lounge
408 N. 4th St.
Coeur d'Alene

The Wild and Weird World of Karaoke Night at Mik-n-Mac’s

“Oh. My. Heck.” I stuttered in amazement. “Where is John Waters when you need him?” I wondered out loud, for the woman seemed to have crawled right out of the notorious film director’s cult classic “Desperate Living.”

I’d noticed the mysterious, hunched-over figure descending into Mik-n-Mac’s a while earlier hidden under a drab green blanket and looking like the old crone in Sleeping Beauty, the one who morphed into the evil witch. It was Karaoke night, and oddball things always seem to occur on Karaoke night, but that night there was an especially peculiar vibe in the air.

The crowd was vivacious as Billy and Sue sang the final hoots and hollers of another rousing rendition of their trademark tune “Dixieland Delight.” The hunched figure shuffled out to the middle of the dance floor and blurted out to anyone listening something along the lines of “Hey! I’m not gonna be disrespected anymore!” followed by a string of curse words shocking even in the context of the bar.

Suddenly, the ugly blanket was tossed away, revealing a polyester jacket and skirt, which also came flying off, revealing a Britney-style schoolgirl outfit, which took quite a bit of effort to remove actually, revealing a rather large and angry looking woman in her early forties, standing there in nothing but black skivvies, her various body parts unraveling themselves in every direction. It was a kamikaze karaoke striptease.

Hesitantly, I looked closer and realized that her arms, chest, and face were covered in handwritten rants and obscenities, self-graffiti done in multicolored permanent markers. Her head was shaved arbitrarily in the style of a slightly diseased Pekinese. Her undergarments gasped for life against the strain of her jelly dance, the disco pulse of a Donna Summer karaoke track causing her to twist her ample body into a frenzied flesh tornado. First, the jaws around the room started dropping in shock as half the crowd struggled to avert their gaze and the other half began cheering wildly, including me.

Outrageous! The bartender flew out from behind me, pointing and snapping her fingers, “Sweetie, you need to put your clothes back on and cool it, right now.” I had to know exactly what on Earth this toothless tyrant’s depraved fit of performance art was all about. Just what made her tick? I’ve always been a loony magnet anyway, so it didn’t surprise me when she emerged from the restroom dressed again in the schoolgirl garb and cornered me directly.

“What planet are you from?” I asked and she proceeded to rattle off a very loosely coherent story which involved getting permanently kicked off the City Link bus system and how since the Sherriff’s Department ignored her cries of injustice she decided to go from bar to bar as a one-woman act of civil disobedience, a lunatic stripper gyrating wildly in the hope of salvation for all those who’ve been banished from buses.

“Interesting,” I replied.”You’re kind of a cross between Courtney Love and Rosa Parks.” She stared at me blankly for a moment then carried on ranting. I do seem to have endless patience for those with funky mind chemistry, those who’s thought patterns run entertainingly out of the norm, those perhaps touched a bit by the freak stick. However, even I was having a hard time pinning this madwoman down as she prattled on conspiratorially, dousing me with saliva droplets and hot vodka breath.

Mercifully, the KJ called my name, and by the time I’d finished singing “Take Me to the River”, the bartender had booted her out the door for going from table to table and soliciting beer money. That’s a tragedy because surely she deserved a tall frosty one for her efforts. I doubt anyone had been so entertained or frightened in ages.

Karaoke Night is never very dull, especially not at Mik-n-Mac’s where longtime host Jerry is the tie-dyed ring master for all the regulars that frequent that particular circus. In addition to having one of the largest song selections I’ve ever seen, Jerry’s also been known to act like Tom Cruise in “Risky Business” and perform ”Old Time Rock and Roll” wearing nothing but Ray-Bans, a dress shirt and underwear. In addition to Karaoke, Tuesdays is for cups of bottomless domestic beer for $5.

The combo of endless Pabst Blue Ribbon and wireless microphones has been known to result in some very unusual performances. Certain regulars are truly fantastic, with most singers at least ranging from not terrible to mostly tolerable.

Some of the performances will make you glad the beer is bottomless. I really root for anyone who chooses to turn in a slip and sing, who’s not afraid to get up there and at least give it a try. No one’s paying attention anyway.

This fact I learned the hard way after delivering show-stopping versions of “Copacabana” or “Fernando” only to land one or two lonely handclaps amid the crowd’s conversational din. To make myself feel better, I invented the convoluted theory that I must be such a good singer that people get busy talking and forget they’re not listening to the radio.

In addition to traditional karaoke each Tuesday, which runs from 8 to midnight, Mik-n-Mac’s has plans to take the idea to the next level on Wednesdays when they’ll be having Rock Band contests. Teams will compete and be eliminated during a series of weekly battles, with the winning band taking home some kind of dazzling prize.

I finally got a chance to play this mega-popular interactive video game with some friends recently and I had a complete blast. The drums were pretty rough for me, but I sang a 96% on “I Wanna Be Sedated” and managed to work the guitar without causing the music to crash and fail. It’s a perfectly logical step up from karaoke and will be a terrific challenge, especially for those who enjoy frequent nips of gin with their juice.

What's the Buzz: August 21-27

The Week in Preview:
They tried to make me go to Chillers, I said no, no, no.

Thursday, August 21
It's starting to seem like public libraries are the new hot spots. Forget the noise of nightclubs, the din of discos, or the clatter of cafes. Quiet is the new loud. Everyone knows you're more likely to catch a man by lurking in the dusty book stacks than at a tavern full of two-bit drunks. The Post Falls Public Library has even brought live music into the equation, with their very brief (2 shows) "Courtyard Concert Series", which got off to a rollicking start last week with an appearance by dulcimerists Doherty and Johnson and wraps up tonight with a set by Spokane's mellow retro-swing mavens 6' Swing, described thusly by the Inlander:

Right in our own backyard, a storm has been a-brewin' in the form of a burgeoning swing-jazz scene. Spokane natives 6' Swing bridge the gap between 1930 and 2007 with surprisingly contemporary, vintage swing jazz. It's a seeming oxymoron the band pulls off and pulls off well. With the horn section blaring and the piano skipping and jumping over singer Heather O'Brien's smoky voice, the melodic hum of the upright bass and the metallic buzz of the washboard, 6' Swing's music is an intoxicating, driving assemblage.

Video Lesson #438:


6' Swing at Think Swing! 2008


Friday, August 22
"The brown note, according to an urban legend, is an infrasound frequency that causes humans to lose control of their bowels due to resonance. There is no scientific evidence to support the claim that a "brown note" (transmitted through sound waves in air) exist." (Wikipedia)

"The Brown Notes are three talented musicians from the Spokane area that are always ready to tear it up! They've played in a number of bands around town since the early nineties, including Ardekan, SuperNormal, Vortex, Dilemma, Mahareeb and Sugarpig. Ryan Sundseth (lead guitar/vocals), Mark Tuttle (bass), and Cameron Smith (drums/vocals) are stoked to raise your spirits with a dose of rock and roll that's definitely worth knocking a few back to. Playing music that ranges from heavy metal to jazz fusion with a country twist, The Brown Notes know there is a note in there just for you." (Brown Notes Bio)

Come to The Grail tonight where the Brown Notes will be causing bowels to blow involuntarily, along with Faded, Another August and Mute Sidewalker. Brown Notes MySpace.


Saturday, August 23
I don't mean to be rude, but it seems like the organizers of the Kootenai County Fair didn't really apply a full effort in their search for performing talent to fill the entertainment roster this year. Terence B and HypnoDog? Farmyard Follies? Music-wise it's the omnipresent Kelly Hughes Band, the old, old-time thrills of the Lake City Harmonizers, and staying on the Geritol tip, it's the Ray Stone Band. I actually have a soft spot for the jazzy former Mayor of Coeur d'Alene and his musical pals ever since they played at my mother's wedding reception in 1995. Stone and his swing cats rocked the Ponderosa Golf Course Clubhouse and had every drunk in the family spilling their daiquiris on the dancefloor. I have to admire Ray for still getting out there and performing at the ripe young age of 137. Okay, maybe not, but it seems like he's been around at least that long. Today, gorge up on elephant ears, express some awe at the giant squash and show up at noon at the main stage to jive and shimmy.

Sunday, August 24
A Get Out "Stay-at-home Sunday Drive:" Those of you who perhaps live away from your home town of Coeur d'Alene and miss it's many beloved visual quirks will appreciate this. So will those kind local folks who are just too blissfully obese to rise from the recliner. I stumbled upon a most stupendous flickr portfolio by local amateur photographer posting under the name doombot. It's titled "my own private (coeur d'alene) idaho" and it's an eye-popping collection of local shots that's evocative and simple, capturing a town in transition and striking a clever balance between the old version of Coeur d'Alene and the new/future one. Samples below. Find the full photo stream here.

(photos by doombot)

Monday, August 25
It's Monday lazybones, so stop and get a cheap Rotisserie Chicken and some Hawaiian Rolls from the Safeway Deli, put on your Garfield slippers and gear yourself for the gut-wrenching despair of A&E TV's hit show "Intervention". Each episode is a mini-documentary peek into the real lives of hardcore drug and alcohol addicts and that ain't pretty. What the sots don't realize is that they're also in for a surprise family gathering in which they get a TV shrink to plead the case for rehab and bawl their blessed heads off. So do you. Most of the time, the addict reluctantly goes and everything seems momentarily full of hope and light until they flash the post-production update. The poor soul has usually relapsed or died, leaving you to feel like there just ain't no hope in this whole black, black world. It's a fun show. Here's a synopsis of tonight's featured episode and bonus videodictive action:

Intervention: Phillip

A 44-year-old singer and songwriter, Phillip used music to escape the pain of an unstable childhood. He gained fame due to his charisma and musical talents, but Phillip now consumes up to four pints of peppermint schnapps a day. He lost his career, the love of his life, and the respect of his family. Can Phillip break the grip of addiction before he loses the most precious relationship in his life, the one he shares with his 11-year-old daughter?

Tuesday, August 26
My god, haven't I blathered on enough lately about Baja Bargarita? No. Not as long as long as they keep the tricks coming and here's the latest: Karaoke every Tuesday and Thursday night with the divine Miss Jesi B. of Jesi B. & the All-Rites fame. She's been doing karaoke shows around town since way back when the Fort Ground was still a rundown tavern and the Summer Theater troupe would come in to sing and do the cha-cha up on the rickety bar. One night during one of her nights down there, Jhanie and I started a riot by performing our K-Tel Hookers trademark tune "Hit Me With Your Big C**k" and some random redneck in the crowd got all bent out of shape and fights started breaking out. We fled across the street to the apartment building where the theater boys were staying and watched the popo come and cool things off from the safety of the third-floor window. Jesi is and can cause a total riot and you know that girl can sing better than any other b***h in town.


Wednesday, August 27
California magician/comedian Derek Hughes will be in town this evening for a gig at NIC's Student Union at 8 p.m. Let's get to know the young comic a little better, shall we?

Music
Imogen Heap.
Nickel Creek.
Bach.
Tool.
Miles Davis.

Movies
Being John Malkovich.
Bladerunner.
True Romance.
Raising Arizona.
Hudsucker Proxy.
Anything by Errol Morris.

Television
Lucky Louie.
Firefly.
Real Sports.
South Park.

Books
Slaughterhouse Five.
Turning the Mind into an Ally.
Song of Ice and Fire

Heroes
Buster Keaton.
Robert Houdin.
Kurt Vonnegut.
Richard Pryor.
Lenny Bruce.

(Derek Hughes MySpace)

Derek Hughes Part 1 (Parts 2-4 on YouTube)

What's the Buzz: July 31 - August 6

Weekly Recommendations: Play Me Some French Cabaret, Like Grandma and Grandpa Used to Play


Thursday, July 31
I hate Randy Owen. I hate him for no other reason than being the man responsible for writing the song "Mountain Music", which he popularized in 1982 along with his band Alabama. It encapsulates everything that gets on my nerves about Country music, from the twangy production to the mocking whine of the fiddle, to the unbearably corny lyrics. For example:

"Swim across the river, just to prove that I'm a man.
Spend the day bein' lazy, just bein' nature's friend.
Climb a long tall hick'ry, bend it over, skinnin' cats.
Playin' baseball with chert rocks, usin' sawmill slabs for bats."

Skinning cats? Chert rocks? WTF? It's a song someone I know insists on singing week after week after week at Karaoke night and even though I really like this person, when he starts with "Mountain Music" I want to take yard clippers to the microphone cord and punch him in the kidneys.

However, this is Idaho and Country music reigns despite my point of view. Judging by Alabama's extreme popularity and longevity, I'm sure the Coeur d'Alene Casino will be packed to the walls tonight at 7 p.m. for Owen's solo appearance, the scents of tanned leather and old spice mingling to create a heavy pong in the air. Here's a rather Randy video of what you might expect to see, a TV performance of his rather disturbing solo debut song "Braid My Hair".




Friday, August 1
C'est magnifique! Seattle's premier French Cabaret Pop quartet Rouge perform this evening at 5 p.m. on the north stage at the Art on the Green Festival down at the NIC campus. Rouge was formed in 1995 by francophile goddess and part-time stilt-walker Janet Rayor, who possesses a tres formidable set of pipes and an entertainingly out-there stage presence. Providing a distinctly continental Euro-jazz musical backdrop are classicaly trained violinist Ruthie Dornfeld, guitarist/composer John Miller, and the accordion sounds of Steve Rice. Still touring in support of their latest CD "Festival Rose" their live show is a do-not miss mix of musicianship, drama and fun. "Mesmerizing. . .thrilling musically, great rapport with the audience." says Jenseen Brons of the Seattle Symphony. Video thrills of Rouge live in 2007:




Saturday, August 2
Oh, lordy it is crowded in this tourist-trodden city by the lake! This weekend has got to be one of the busiest of the year, with downtown shut down for the Street Fair and Art on the Green, people come from hither and yon to enjoy what we residents take for granted year round. I say, let them have it, at least for one day; get out of town for a little road trip. Get up early , pack the cooler and head south on 95 taking in the open expanses of the Indian Reservation and the mighty Palouse, through Moscow and Lewiston before branching east on Highway 62, then it's just a few more miles to Kamiah, Idaho (say "kami-eye"), our road trip destination.

Lunch in Kamiah? Only two real options, from what I can figure. The China Cafe is certainly promising, but for a likely shocking dose of real local color, I'd bet Doreen's Southfork Saloon is the real deal. After lunch, check out the famous old Opera House and then go dip your hot feet in the gorgeous Clearwater River, maybe bring a fishing pole if that's your thing. I like to just relax on a blanket and stare at the clouds while listening to chirp and gurgle of nature. In the afternoon, visit one of the many natural hot springs in the area but be gone by the 8 o'clock closing time. Due to vandalism, Forest Rangers don't take kindly to drunken, late night hot springs parties (I know this from experience).


Sunday, August 3
Hot Club of Spokane began in June of 2007 as Spokane’s first band in recent memory to resurrect, preserve, and perform the compositions and stylings of Django Reinhardt and the Quintette of the Hot Club of France. Not strictly a “gypsy jazz string ensemble,” Hot Club of Spokane enjoys the musical diversity of not only strings, provided by Andrew Wilson (violin), Kim Plewniak (bass), and Garrin Hertel (rhythm guitar), but also brass, performed by Michael Lenke (trumpet, flugelhorn), reeds, performed by Robert Folie (alto and baritone sax), as well as vocals, sung by Daini Hertel. The band also welcomes an exciting array of guest musicians on lead guitar, reeds, and accordion. Such diversity allows the band to infuse as much hot New Orleans Jazz into their arrangements and performances as they do the swingin’ sounds of World War II-era Paris.

As such, Hot Club of Spokane commits to delivering exciting, encouraging, toe-tapping performances of hot jazz, all the while being versatile enough to play every kind of engagement imaginable, including private parties, receptions, weddings, concerts, dance halls, and especially night clubs where the balance between dance and conversation, performance and ambiance, must be kept intact, just as the original Quintette of the Hot Club of France intended. The band achieves this balance by remaining as acoustic as possible (adjusting to the needs of each venue), and by omitting drums entirely, in keeping with the general Hot Club tradition.

(Hot Club bio courtesy their My Space)

Hot Club of Spokane plays today at 3 p.m. as part of Taste of the Coeur d’Alenes in the Cd'A City Park Bandshell. Hot Video Club action (dig the Rosauers banner):



Monday, August 4
Taco Hell. Taco Smell. I've never been a major Taco Bell lover, though I will admit to getting the random craving for the stuff every now and again, much to the disdain of my digestive system. The Cd'A outlet was particularly scary with rumors of mouse infestations and other horror stories I won't mention here in case you happen to be enjoying a Queso Cruchwrap right at this moment. My friend Jay is a manager at the much-preffered Post Falls Taco Bell, and he swears they won 2nd place out of all the Taco Bells in the world for best overall store. Impressive, eh?

The Cd'A store was recently razed and rebuilt faster than you can say "Nachos Bel Grande". For some reason, ever since it's rebirth I've been hooked like a teenager. It's all about regular tacos with sour cream. They're really nothing fancy but they taste so good to me lately for some reason, especially when drenched in packets of fire sauce. Plus, they're so cheap, I have enough money left over for my other bad recent habit, Mexican Mochas.

Try a Fruitista Freeze, a variation on the traditional Slurpee that taste incredibly tropical and delicious, it's just crying to meet with some vodka. Too bad they're served so tiny and are really overpriced for the amount you get. You might want to get a Lemonade to mix the rest of your booze with just in case. It's Monday, hit the Bell for some cheap eats, then go home to watch the Teen Choice Awards on Fox.


Tuesday, August 5
It's kinda like a Karaoke cult. The same hardcore crowd of 15 or so is guaranteed to show up almost every single Tuesday at Mik-n-Mac's Lounge for Karaoke with Jerry and $5 bottomless beer. We've been doing it since Rita decided to bring karaoke night back last year and every Tuesday gets a little busier and a little wilder, new faces pop in and always come back the next week. Christa's behind the bar pouring your choice of endless domestic brew or Long Island Ice teas for $3 a go if that's more up your alley. Look out when she run the Lemon Drop special - Billy buys one for everyone in the house even if you're a total stranger (which you only are for the first two seconds after walking in.) Seems like everybody knows everybody and people are in a great mindframe and make-out sessions are more common than fights. It's like a big twisted Tuesday karaoke family - come join! Here's a very dark little video montage I slapped together:



Wednesday, August 6
Nothing happens on Wednesday's so you might as well stay home and catch up on that pile of books and other publications that's been building up in the corner. Might I suggest David Sedaris' latest hilarious warped take on reality "When You Are Engulfed in Flames." Sedaris' tale of quitting his 2-pack a day smoking habit will have you roaring out loud.

On a more local reading note, go out and procure yourself a copy of the shiny new summer 2008 edition of North Idaho's "Guide to Dining", put together by local food enthusiasts Kiki Miller and Kerri Thoreson. (I found my copy at Caruso's Deli.) First of all, I want to give a big thanks to the ladies for including our Get Out karaoke listings in the magazine, along with the url to this blog. Holla! As usual, they did great job of putting together an interesting mix of trivia and opinion. I love to read the mini-interviews with familiar local faces about where they like to dine and relax. The Guide packs a lot of info into 16 pages and is an essential reference when it comes to dining out locally. Cheers to Kiki and Kerri! NI Dining Guide website here.

Mik-n-Mac's 11th Anniversary

Mik-n-Mac’s Lounge Steel Anniversary Luau

We stumbled upon the place pretty much by accident. It was moving day, and we were wiped out from hauling my many belongings all the way from Seattle and finally up the long flight of stairs that led to my new downtown Cd’A apartment. Nothing in the world sounded more refreshing than a frosty pint of cheap American brew and some stale, fusty air-conditioned bar air in which to unwind. We decided to just meander the block and a half over to the closest tavern, which happened to be the infamous Waterin’ Hole, a name which was far too glamorous for such a fug-encrusted, sweat-stained pit of redneck hell. Thirst won out over trepidation and we made our way inside from the harsh glare of the summer sun, down the stairs and into the dungeon.

As our eyes adjusted to the dark we started to notice a few things. The scummy ambience was gone, replaced by the sparkle of cleanliness and plenty of insane green paint. Lamps shone that hadn’t seen bulbs in years, and inches of toxic dust had been wiped away from atop ancient bar fixtures. Also quite noticeable right away was the difference in clientele. It was late afternoon, a time when the Waterin’ Hole would have been at its most rowdy, but the room was peaceful and uncrowded. A group of ladies sat up at the bar snickering and chugging bottles of Miller Light, which almost gave them away, but it wasn’t until we saw their softball jerseys and feathery mullets that we really started to clue in.

“Something tells me this ain’t the Waterin’ hole anymore” I said as I examined the rainbow flags and gay pride stickers decorating the mirrors and shelves behind the bar. “Welcome to Mik-n-Mac’s Lounge” smirked the barkeep as she drew our pitcher of beer. “I’m Mac and this is my partner Mik.” Mik and Mac, also known as Rita and Kirsten had been looking for a space in which to open a “non-discriminatory establishment”, a lounge where their many friends and folks of all backgrounds and cultural persuasions could come to relax and dance and be themselves without the threat of being verbally or physically attacked for being different. This was actually quite a revolutionary idea for Coeur d’Alene, back when the bars were full of the kinds of folks who didn’t look kindly at all on alternative ways of life and were just drunk and obnoxious enough to let it be known. “It’s been getting busy on the weekends, you guys ought to come in and check it out” said Rita as we finished our beer and vamoosed, ending the first of hundreds of visits to our new favorite haunt.

Back then, things were so low-budget that the DJ used to set up a folding card table and spin his set right there on the side of the dance floor. A busy night in the early days consisted of around thirty people who all knew each other, but eventually word got out and slowly our secret underground bunker was filled with refugees from other bars and those who came out of curiosity, to gawk at the “freaks” as if they were exotic creatures in the zoo. Actually, most of the newcomers were friendly, and bouncers knew how to uphold the “non-discriminatory” policy and weed out troublemakers. It was inevitable that business would explode; Mik-n-Mac’s was really the best, and sometimes the only real nightclub in downtown Coeur d’Alene and people realized how much more fun it was to drink and dance in such an entertainingly diverse environment.
A few summers later and people were lined up down the street trying to get in the door every weekend. The atmosphere became completely bananas, with glamour girls, motorcycle mamas, frat boys and drag queens fighting for a place in the drink line or for a square foot of dance floor space. At one point way back when, Rita bought out Mac’s half of the rights and she’s kept things bubbling along quite nicely ever since. Tonight, Rita and her crew are celebrating eleven years of Mik-n-Mac’s, a long time for any business and an eternity for a night club. While not as intensely busy as it once was, the place is still guaranteed to fill to the rafters with a mixed-nuts assortment of people by midnight every Friday and Saturday. Tuesday is Karaoke night with Jerry and $5 bottomless domestic beer and Thursday is 2-for-1’s. DJ Jason spins Top-40, Hip-Hop and club classics every Wednesday through Saturday at 9 p.m. Earlier this year, they introduced a VIP couch area which can be reserved for groups and a martini menu featuring about 50 varieties of the boozy treats. Most recently Rita has gone a bit high-tech, bringing in a new, UFO-like internet jukebox for your listening pleasure.

It’s comforting in an odd way how certain things are just guaranteed to happen at Mik-n-Mac’s. Christa will come in for her shift and immediately rearrange the napkin holders and counter objects to her exact perfect specification. DJ Jason will play certain tracks every night without fail, including “Billie Jean”, “Closer” and the truly awful “AC/DC Megamix.” It’s inevitable that someone will tipsily attempt “Margaritaville” every single Karaoke night and everyone will shout on cue “Where’s the salt, where’s the gosh-darned salt”. The hand-soap dispenser will most definitely end up getting high-kicked off the men’s room wall by some pointless, disrespectful drunk every Saturday night. Almost always, I’ll have a nice Kokanee in a frosty glass with a side of Clamato please. Like the thousands of patron-customized dollar bills stapled to the walls behind the counter, there’s just an attractively comforting repetition to the place that keeps regulars regular.

That said, there have been some changes worth paying tribute to as well. We still rue the day the popcorn machine vanished. It once served to fill sour, liquored tummies with therapeutic grease and salt but was banished after clean-up became a consistent hassle. Or the old jukebox which once so proudly blared Abba and Ani DiFranco and broke down so often that Rita threatened to push it out into the middle of 4^th Street. We miss the Hot Dog guy out front at 2 a.m., we miss Vaseline Face and the Iguana, and most of all we miss Jackson, the fiercest and funniest cocktail server we ever had the privilege to know. So many faces came and went, so many conversations spent in varying degrees of sobriety with friends and strangers too many to name.

The Mik-n-Mac’s “11^th B-Day Luau Party” kicks off at 9 p.m. tonight and you better believe everyone will be getting a lei, around the neck of course. DJ Kowax will be jetting in from the Las Vegas to show us his funky, mash-up style of spinning records. Wear you sexiest muumuu and come shake it like a jigger full of Mai Tais.

Bread Crumbs: Random Bits

I was privy to a mixed early report on the new Thai Bamboo from eager beaver Alex and his significant other, Steve. Alex said his Pad Thai was "excellent" and "just what I was hoping for" and commented that the decor was "wild...over the top."

Steve, on the other hand had never eaten Thai, and somehow expected that his Cashew Chicken was supposed to be a noodle dish. When it arrived without noodles, he thought they'd forgotten them. He said he waited "half an hour" (um, I doubt it) before the server returned to explain that the Cashew Chicken did NOT actually involve noodles, but offered to bring him some anyway after he threw down a queeny bitch trip. "I was so upset, I wasn't even hungry anymore. I was practically in tears" he over-dramatized to me later that evening.

I'm leaning heavily toward Alex's viewpoint, since Steve is notoriously persnickety and his opinion counts for naught (just kidding, Steve, you can put your claws away now). I'm letting the place cool down a week or two before I finally make my way in there to indulge in Swimming Rama and write the place up. Can't wait!

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As if Jamba Juice weren't already truly fantastic enough, they've got some exciting new things they'll be throwing into the mix toward the end of the month. My favorite morning Jamba Juicemistress (oh, I'm bad with names sometimes) filled me in this morning with some good news. They're adding a bunch of new "breakfast smoothies" that have added goodies like banana chunks and granola to create some thicker drinks that are filling enough to act as the most important meal of the day. Bonus! They're bringing in some new baked goods as well including mini-loaves of honey zucchini bread. Honey zucchini bread. Honey zucchini bread. Yum.

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Also in the healthy-yet-somehow-still-delicious department is the deli at Pilgrim's Market on 4th. When, I popped in the other day to pick up some Ginger-Lemon Yogi Tea, my tummy started a-rumbling so I strolled through the deli aisle, poking and prodding until I finally decided on an organic hummus wrap, which was also, without a doubt, an orgasmic hummus wrap (sorry).

It was so deliciously satanic with garlic that afterwards at karaoke, I felt truly sorry for whomever had to deal with the microphone after I was through gassing it. The fresh onion wore the mask and pointed the gun, and the crisp lettuce, avocado, and sun dried tomato drove the getaway car. For four dollars, all I had to do was throw in a mini-size cheddar Kettle Chips and I was fully satisfied for a mere crispy Lincoln.

They also serve wraps and sandwiches with organic meats, egg salad and tuna salad, and they offer a bazillion other good-for-your-spleen deli specialties. Oh, and if you hadn't heard, they're expanding into the old Liquidation World spot next door, and if they're smart, they'll put in a nice little cafe with a seating area.

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Once a week, the mailman stuffs my box with a handful of fast food and pizza ads that usually go directly into the fireplace. This week, I kinda peeked by accident and what did I see but an Arby's ad touting the new fish sandwich. All you have to do is tell me something is new and I'm right on it.

|The verdict: Folks, don't waste your $2. The previously frozen fish was room temperature, mushy-mushy and flavorless, possibly not cooked long enough despite the golden brown exterior. Mysterious then, that the cheese slice was melted beyond all reasonable recognition. Only one thing can explain this sad state of affairs: the microwave. Ugh!

To make the situation even more sickening, they had the nerve to slip a slimy tomato slice all up in that white-ass, tartar-soaked bun. Oh no you didn't! I sho 'nuff didn't see no DAMN tomato in that coupon magazine! Recommendation: stick with Micky D's for a good old fashioned Filet-o-Fish.

Get Out! Best of North Idaho 2007

It seems like 2007 disappeared faster than a fresh tray of Kung Pao Chicken at the Top of China Buffet. It’s already that time of year again when we all look back and reflect a bit on the last twelve months: the good and the hard times, the gourmet meals and the rotten corn dogs, the nights out and the days spent recovering from them. It’s a good time to take note of some of the highlights of the past year in the local food, music and arts scene. So without further ado, I present to you my completely arbitrary, random list of things that made it tolerable to live in North Idaho during 2007.

Most Creative Local Rock Band: Coeur d’Alene’s Kite have been amazing Inland Northwest audiences for over ten years with a sound that is distinctly soaring and melodic with an intriguingly artsy air. I caught them earlier this year at a benefit gig and was awed by the urgency and intense display of creative energy these guys seem to effortlessly conjure up. The band is currently in the studio working on the follow-up to 2006’s brilliant Sleeping in Thunder album, which will see release early in 2008.

Naughtiest Onion Rings: There are some pretty decadent deep fried goodies out there in the culinary scene, but none will send you to the cardiologist faster than the clumpy, crumbly onion rings at the Paul Bunyan Drive In on Northwest Blvd. They have to double bag these babies so the hot grease doesn’t soak through and ruin your car interiors. Must be consumed with surreal amounts of dip.

Most Smartest Torch Lounge Dancer of the Year: Violet truly knows how to wriggle and writhe her way around a silver pole wearing nothing but a tiny thong bikini and six-inch platform heels, yet she also holds a degree in Child Development from North Idaho College. Naturally, she's a Gemini, her double nature reflected not only in her bipolar career paths, but also in her bisexuality and her ability to do long division whilst dramatically reinterpreting the music of Marilyn Manson and simultaneously thrusting her ladybusiness into the faces of drooling, horny men. Quel génie!

Coolest Concept That Could Use A Little Work: I really liked what the organizers of the first Coeur d’Alene film festival were trying to do, screening indie films that would have otherwise never been seen by local moviegoers. Problem was, many people were reluctant to spend the $125 for all access tickets (or the $9 for individual tickets) – to me, not a realistic price for low-budget amateur films. Also, the films were scattered all over town with not enough time to make it from one venue to the next between films and causing much confusion for the out-of-towners. If they can keep things more centrally located and make the entry fees more affordable they might be on to something special.

Tastiest Local Microbrew: I had the pleasure of touring the Laughing Dog Brewery up in Ponderay last summer and was schooled by owner Fred Colby on the intricacies of crushing the grain, sparging the mash, and boiling the wort. I’d never really thought about the process, and it was amazing to learn that beer doesn’t just magically appear on the shelf in the grocery store cooler. Even more amazing was their wonderful Huckleberry Cream Ale, a light and sweet but hearty brew they let me repeatedly sample on site. Good stuff.

Best Lunch On A Very Tight Budget: It’s lunchtime but you’re totally broke. Dig in your couch cushions and you’ll likely come up with enough funds for the totally satisfying 3 for $1.19 hot dog special at Gittel’s Grocery at Gov’t Way and Harrison. These dogs are perfectly plumped in an old-fashioned wiener-rotating machine and the buns are steamed. What more do you need?

Wildest Karaoke Night: Marj Hopkins is the Karaoke Queen of the Corner Bar on 4^th Street in Cd’A. Four nights a week, she’s the calm in the center of the hurricane of tipsy warblers that pack the fusty former Fran’s Regina. Everyone from frat boys to chain-smoking old broads sign up to sing here, and you’re likely to witness mind-warping performances of everything from “Amazing Grace” to “Sweet Transvestite.” The more people that sing, the more people need a drink to deal with it. The more people drink, the more likely they are to sing. It’s a depraved spiral into the karaoke abyss.

Freakiest Breakfast Waitresses: Not to be too unkind, but a few of the juicier descriptive terms that pop into mind when pondering the gals who sling plates up at CdA's northside breakfast mecca the Rockin' Robin include fried, grizzled, sizzled, smoked out, coked out and choked out. The food is always incredibly dank, stick-to-your-ribs good and you have to love a place that refers to the pancakes as Pips (as in Gladys Night) and features an omelet called "The Supremes". The waitresses are equally as retro, apparently suspended in a world where it's okay to wear Christmas balls as earrings and eye makeup that would make even the late, great Tammy Faye blanch. Plus, their you'll-get-your-maple-syrup-when-I-damn-well-feel-like-it attitude and sassy coffee-buzz wit will either leave you in stitches or leave them needing stitches after you lose your cool and attack them with your fork. You'll love them anyway and they'll keep you coming back.

Most Interesting Popular Dance Craze: Robin Campbell spends Tuesday evenings upstairs at the old VFW Hall on 4^th Street in Coeur d’Alene teaching Argentine tango dancing to people presumably far more energetic and coordinated than myself. It’s an hour of lessons, then another hour of hardcore tangoing. When you get really good at it, you might want to mambo down to the Shore Lounge in the Cd’A Resort on Wednesdays and check out their Salsa night with DJ Brentano. Olé!

Most Beloved C-Store Clerk: Old Joe has been sitting behind the register at the Zips Stop on 7th and Sherman peering out from behind those glasses that make his eyes all googly and big since before anyone can remember. He knows pretty much everything about everyone who've come into the store more than twice and will chat for hours in that gritty, gravelly voice of his. He's seen it all before and is completely unflappable, not even flinching when you come in to purchase eight 40's of Old E, a box of condoms and a fresh can of WD-40. Trust me, I know.


Most Addictive Jamba Juice Flavor: Alright, it isn’t exclusively a local thing, but I couldn’t imagine life without a power size Matcha Green Tea Smoothie with a Green Caffeine Blast at least three mornings a week. It tastes exactly like my favorite sweet green tea ice cream they serve at Japanese Restaurants and provides a clean caffeine wallop smoother and stronger than coffee or soda. Problem is, my desk sits empty half the day – green tea is a natural and very strong diuretic.

Best Kept Local Radio Secret: Have you ever been driving in downtown Coeur d’Alene, scanning the radio and you’re surprised to suddenly hear some left-of-center music like Pixies or the Meat Puppets? Try to find the station again later and it’s gone or maybe moved somewhere else on the dial. If you’ve experienced this phenomenon, you’ve stumbled upon Coeur d’Alene’s ultra cool pirate radio station. It’s an utter mystery who runs it, but word is if you leave CDs on a certain spot atop a certain c-store sign, they’ll fetch them and play them on the air no matter what the content. By the way, if you work for the FCC, you never saw this.

Bravest Theater Production: Stodgier season ticket holders and manly men worried about exactly how far Cd’A Summer Theatre would take their production of “The Full Monty”, which is famous for it’s depiction of average working men getting naked and dancing for money. Our own Dave Oliveria nervously wondered on Huckleberries Online “Is ‘The Full Monty’ too edgy for Cd’A?” The quick answer was no, it was a huge hit and a rollicking good time, complete with Ellen Travolta’s unforgettably grand performance as jaded showbiz vet Jeanette.

Coolest Vinyl-Only Record Store: OK, the ONLY vinyl-only record store in town actually. Unified Groove Merchants' Cd'A store magically appeared this year across the way from the fairgrounds after the owner ran out of space in the original Spokane location. Looking for a rare Velvet Underground bootleg or a pristine copy of the Beatles' Revolver album? Bingo! Plus thousands of other LP collector's goodies from all eras of music. I lost six hours here one day digging through box after endless box of random, unorganized 45's and still never saw them all. Come with lots of cash and prepare to leave exhausted.

Most Delicious Donuts and Pastries: Somehow when I did my infamous write-up of the deli at Peterson’s Family Foods (formerly Sherman IGA), I forgot to mention their luscious baked goods. The maple bars, apple fritter and French crullers are made fresh daily in small, exclusive batches and are worth getting up early for, because if you don’t they’ll be all gone.

Best Suggestion For A Get Out Column: I enjoy the emails I occasionally receive from local photographer extraordinaire George Goetzman. I was looking for something to inspire this week’s column and I found it in my inbox much thanks to George who wrote “I think you should have a ‘best of’ column sometime. It could include best bloody Mary, best porter on tap, etc. In other words, the best of your eating and drinking pleasures.” Good idea, eh? George goes on to offer his ideas for winners in a few sandwich categories, and they’re insightful enough to include here. He writes: “Best tuna melt: Java on Sherman. Have it on whole wheat. Although my stepdaughter thinks the best tuna melt is at Bella Rose. It has lemony hints in it. Best French dip: Moon Time. Hands down. With caramelized onions, and creamy horseradish sauce. It's over the top. Best patty melt: Rustler's Roost. A patty melt, like a Reuben, has to be kind of greasy with a lot of dripping sauce. Woody does 'em good. I think they come on Rye. You need to add mustard. Best grilled cheese: Java on Sherman. Have it on sourdough. It's not called a grilled cheese on the menu, it's called Bill's Favorite.”

Shore Lounge Karaoke

Shore Lounge Karaoke
Lobby Level
Coeur d’Alene Resort
765-5000

Sunday nights in downtown Coeur d’Alene can be a little eerie. Most of the week, the area is full of nightlife, revelers hopping from bar to bar, live music pouring out onto the streets. However, on Sunday evenings the place turns into a virtual ghost town. Most of the pubs and cocktail lounges are closed, and the ones that do open close their doors early.

Nevertheless, you’re bored and surely you can’t be the only one in town with a wild hair to go have some fun on a sleepy Sunday. Where is everyone at? Well, dear reader, I know the answer. They’re tucked away deep inside the Coeur d’Alene Resort at the Shore Lounge for Karaoke Night. On a typical Sunday after 9 p.m., this dimly-lit, touristy lounge with the vaguely nautical theme transforms into a packed showcase for local singers and non-singers alike. Despite it’s location inside the stuffy confines of the resort, this Karaoke night has been known to get a bit weird and wild.

Your hostess for the evening is the gorgeous and talented Karaoke diva Tequila Leah (pictured above). For the most part, she keeps things rolling along smoothly, always injecting some of her acrid sense of humor into the proceedings and amazing regulars with her edgy fashion sense. She would never come right out and insult a bad singer, but she has a charming trick of getting the message across in a passively aggressive way, without actually hurting any feelings. She always insists that the audience give a big hand to the last singer, no matter how tone-deaf their performance.

Leah’s bubbly personality keeps the atmosphere fun and lighthearted, and even if you screech like a maimed kitty-cat during your performance of “My Heart Will Go On”, she will make a little joke, insist the audience applaud, give you a hug and ask you what song you want to sing next. She makes everyone feel so good about their singing, that it can create an occasional problem - certain not-so-hotso singers have developed a false sense of grandeur about their abilities and insist on terrorizing the crowd at every opportunity. In reality, the vast majority of people that get up to sing actually perform very well. Several of the regular singers could feasibly pull off a career in pop music and even seem to have developed small fan bases here at the lounge.

The stage set up here can be a little bit intimidating. Traditionally, in Japan where Karaoke was invented, people stay put right at their table and the microphone is handed around to the different participants. At the Shore Lounge, singers have to get up on a stage in front of everyone, complete with a spotlight shining directly on your big face. You’re the star, and there’s no escaping it. Most of the regulars here embrace the idea and really ham it up. Some people even dress up for the night – a couple of twenty-something dudes like to show up in ungodly ugly polyester leisure suits from the ‘70’s and sing the hits of Barry Manilow. There’s guaranteed to be a hardcore cowboy or two, dressed in full regalia, and singing some bombastic patriotic country hit. The crowd here is entertainingly diverse – it seems like everyone from the other nightspots end up here on Sundays since their regular haunts are closed.

Sometimes the chaotic nature of the crowd leads to wild excitement. It was here a while back that I witnessed one of the goriest girl fights ever. I had just returned to my table after singing a rousing rendition of Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life.” Suddenly we heard a girl hiss “You bitch!” She had been completely. drenched when another girl threw a drink at her. In seconds, both girls were on the floor struggling, ripping out huge chunks of each other’s fried hair. The music stopped, the house lights went up and people were piling up, trying to get the girls to break it up.

One of the girls finally got up off the floor and we watched as she spit something out of her mouth, it went flying across the room. She immediately brushed herself off and promptly slipped out the front door before security even had a chance to arrive. Meanwhile, the other girl let out a chilling cry: “My finger! She bit my finger off!” and our jaws dropped as we realized that what the other girl had spit across the room was a fingertip. Gross! The excitement died down and Tequila Leah fired things back up as medics hauled to poor girl away.

Being that this is the Coeur d’Alene resort, the drinks here are certainly not cheap, so bring some extra cash if you need some liquid encouragement before tackling your Karaoke tune. If you’re on a budget, go with the beer special – five dollars for an extra tall mug (about 3 pints worth) of draught beer, your choice. Sit down and grab a song book. Leah has an awesome selection of over 15,000 songs and she gets updates all the time, so whether you’re dying to re-interpret Patsy Cline, Metallica, or Fergie’s “Fergalicious”, she’s got you covered.

I’m a firm believer that everyone has the ability to get into Karaoke – it doesn’t matter if you can sing or not if you’ve got some schtick. Be creative. Some people need to delve into choreography or props to distract from their lack of vocal talent, but who cares as long as you’re entertaining. Get into the spirit, conquer your stage fright and just get up there and do it. I swear, all it takes is once to wipe away all your fears, and suddenly you’re a Karaoke addict. You’ll be braving the fabulous chaos of the Shore Lounge every Sunday night.