While I missed out on some great snowboarding this weekend, I found plenty to do in the city during Jitka’s absence. On Friday, after a pleasant afternoon of hanging out and planning with Bethany, Jeff, and Alex, I talked myself into having an early night. The idea was to go home,
translate a bit, work on this blog, and chill with a joint and a DVD. I was cutting through Tyn Square and as I was passing Legends Sports Bar (Tyn 1, Prague 1), I saw the word “KARAOKE” written on a sandwich board.
Every Friday night Karaoke Addicts sets up camp in Legends. KJ Karaoke Ken plays requests from a list of over 1200 tracks, while Melvis handles the hosting duties. They’re good parties, the only drag is the location. There’s no other way of saying this – Legends sucks, and here’s why: CZK 65 beers, inattentive waitresses who earn their wages by standing by the bar chain smoking and chatting, lousy overpriced food, and it tends to attract more than its fair share of UK stag parties (Ken told me that whenever the stag groups take over the bar the waitstaff spends more time mopping up puke in the men’s room than serving customers). Ok, it’s big, there are lots of TV’s with satellite sports, and the bartenders are friendly, but other than that, Legends is a crap bar.
Nevertheless, I ventured in to say hi to Ken and Melvis. I don’t do karaoke that often because I always end up getting wrecked at these parties – to the point where I should not be allowed anywhere near a microphone. Such was the case on Friday, when I got to be Michael Stipe (twice), Mick Jagger, and Bon Scott. Perhaps I got up and did a few other tunes, I can’t really remember right now – between songs I was getting fed beer and shots and tokes from various benefactorsâ??
Yes, this was an exceptional night at Legends, helped in part by the fact that Ken didn’t start up the karaoke until a rather large stag party left. They were soon replaced by a group of keen young Italian students, and a Welsh hen party, one of whom got up on a table and started shaking her moneymaker while I was caterwaul-rapping (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.
Saturday was recovery, the Shivanam gig at Akropolis, followed by lots of beer and bullshit at Blind Eye. Just as I did on Friday, I somehow managed to stumble home to Blackbridge on automatic pilot after I’d had my fill.
Sunday was more recovery, during which I watched The Hours – a good movie, but a bad way to ride out a hangover before going to host a poetry open mic at NOD. Fortunately, it ended up being a very pleasant event, thanks to a small, attentive and appreciative crowd, a friendly and considerate barman (he actually waited for poets to finish their pieces before making cappuccinos!), and a helpful soundman.
My co-organiser and co-host, Bethany Shaffer, who performed some excellent poetry both solo and accompanied by Calder on the saw, deserves extra-special props, as does Jeff Stroud for providing me with fantastic electro-acousticisms for my words to surf. And of course, cheers to Alison, Bonita, JT, Karl, and Chris C. for standing and delivering.