Turn down the volume, please

It's Chinese New Year tomorrow, and right now I'm at my parents' for reunion dinner. I sure didn't expect to get away with a quiet dinner (you know, just the three of us since J's in the US and Chris is stuck in Melbourne).

But realization strikes as I broach the door - at once, broken strains of Hotel California assault my senses and send rapid impulses to my brain with the urgency of a fish in the net, screaming take cover!!! There's a whole bunch of people at home, and they're all eagerly crowded around the telly and two microphones.

Karaoke is the bane of my annual CNY experience. Just once a year, I don't mind making the rounds to visit relatives that I only see for mere minutes out of a whole 365 days, eating all kinds of rubbish, chatting with the easygoing uncles and avoiding the questions of the nosy aunts. But I absolutely hate it when they break out the mics.

It's bad enough that the sound penetrates every living (or otherwise) cell in the body, but having it perform tremolo is something that makes my hair stand. It's worse when it's a song that I know that gets mangled! Sure, it's fun, whatever. I just wish I could wear earplugs without being rude.

Ah, the warbling has stopped. Which means I'd better go outside and get on with dinner.