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"I'm Henry the Eighth, I am"

Okay, for the record I want to emphasize that I have never, I repeat never fancied myself or considered myself to be much of a singer. I'm the kind of person that can carry pretty much anything but not carry a tune. Heck, I'm not even a good singer in the shower.

In elementary school we were forced to sing American folk songs like "On Top of Old Smoky", "Swanee River," "The Camptown Races," "Home on the Range," "I've Been Working on the Railroad," and "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" songs that we all butchered when possible and never really got into the groove song-wise. And those two years of high school chorus? Lip-synching.

About the only time I have sung (other in the car with the radio or tape deck turned up loud enough to drown out my awful singing) was when I was usually loaded along with everyone else and you know how that goes, when you're loaded everything sounds good and know one knows the difference.

I was in for a big surprise when I came to Korea in 1990 and soon discovered to my dismay that everyone was singing about something and going out to do it. Everyone knows about karaoke in Japan and elsewhere but back in Korea in the early 90s there were these places called noraebang, which roughly translated means singing (norae) room (bang) popping up everywhere.

Similar to a karaoke, a noraebang
had a number of small rooms inside where people could get together and sing along (with a small karaoke machine). Some of these noraebang were (and still are) quite stylish with TV screens and videos, spinning disco balls, flashing lights, comfortable sofas and chairs. Many places sold alcoholic beverages and snacks so it was like having your own private party room.

In the beginning the English song selection was quite limited to such standard karaoke classics like "My Way" and "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" but by the end of the 90s you could sing anything from "Born to be Wild" by Steppenwolf to "Don't Bring Me Down" by ELO.

Going out to a noraebang
would soon become a popular activity in Korea, especially with students and colleagues, and soon I was being invited out. There was no way that I was going to be able to lip-synch now or even fake it because these karaoke machines also "scored" your singing ability. Most of the people I went to a noraebang with scored 90 points or above. I would soon learn what it meant to "lose face" when people found out just how bad a singer I was when I scored below 50 points.

And all the times when

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