Last night, Roommate and I celebrated the birthday of our dear, beloved friend Maria. Maria is a great lady, and like all great ladies do, she toasted her big day at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame, in the West Village. I'm a huge fan of this establishment, and whenever I'm there, I not only devour an ice cream baked potato (SO EFFIN' GOOD), but I become something of a margaritawhore as well. I think that in 45 minutes, I had something on the order of ten margaritas. This much tequila coursing through my already-boozy blood can only lead to one thing: Singing. Specifically, Roommate and I tackled the Johnny Cash/June Carter duet "It Ain't Me, Babe," which was re-popularized in the film Walk The Line. If you don't know it, it's sassy and bouncy and fantastic, and you should give it a listen. Now, I've sung this song before, with my much-adored coworker Val, but I've always done the lady part. Roommate, being a lady, made me sing the gentleman part, which is to say THE JOHNNY CASH PART. Like, OK- Try this. Make the lowest, rumbliest tones you can, and then try to sing an up-tempo country song in those tones. WILD, right? Now, I don't give a shit how poor Johnny Cash was growing up- NO ONE should sing that low. I literally have a scratchy throat today because of it. Damn that dead genius! Anyway, I'll keep all of you updated on the progress of our duet, but let's just say that I may develop nodes before this is all done. Verdict: GROSS.
xoxo KEVIN
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