80 is the new 40

According to CBS Sunday Morning Hugh Hefner turns 80 today and he says that 80 is the new 40. Please add your own joke about Hef's secret to "feeling younger" in the comments section. As much fun as one has to make of a wrinkly old man and his obsession with the feel of silky PJs on his privates I have reason to believe him about the new 40 thing.

I am currently on a desperate quest for rehydration after Kath's Karaoke Birthdayganza last night. I'm afraid I'm going to meet the necessary liquid levels before it's time to go to brunch and have a mimosa. After spending the evening with yesterday's birthday girl I believe she has found the secret to making your 40s the new 20s (with a cheat sheet). She's got a job at which she excels, she owns her home, her guy throws a kick ass birthday party and she's not worried about anything, she's just enjoying herself. I had a great time and I was really outgoing for me but her ability to party leaves me in the dust.

Every time I manage to make it to her birthday party it's a year for Indian food and Karaoke. There's a little specialty karaoke place on Avenue A where you can rent a room big enough for your group and then program whatever songs you like and sing at the top of your lungs until the paper walls begin to shake. Drinking helps.

Kath takes it one step further. As Birthday Princess she appoints herself Karaoke Dictator. This means that she confiscates the song books and the remote control at the beginning of the party, programs a bunch of numbers into the machine and then waits until the intro to the song starts playing, brandishes the mic and says, "This one's for.....Kizz!" Then she hands you the mic and it's your turn, failure is not an option. Lest you think she is unkind I will clarify that she is more than willing to help you out by singing along with you if you can't remember the tune. If she has any voice left at all this morning I think she owes it to proper lubrication of the vocal cords.

This morning as I showered I played a little music to keep me from falling asleep and drowing (Confidential to the person with the squeaky door who was apparently bringing their garbage out piece by piece at 7 this morning: FUCK YOU!) and I had the iTunes on shuffle. A familar beat on the toms started up and I recognized Walk Like an Egyptian. That was a highpoint of last evening's set. Everyone (except me) made fun of Kath for picking it and yet, not one person sat out the song. (Way-oh, way-oh, way-oh-way-oh-oh)

Other hysterical moments include Lumberjack (I'd never heard it before but Alex and Craig did it up right and still begged to get a second chance - the Karaoke Dictator declined), I got to sing Cabaret (everyone but the Birthday Princesss was all, "Cabawhat?"), Take Me Home Country Roads, something by Oasis, Bohemian Rhapsody (natch), and Waterloo (probably my personal favorite).

An amazing time was had by all and I hope it was everything Miss Kath wanted for her day. (Thank you for inviting me!) She sang, she laughed, she took pictures, she danced, she smuggled liquor in against the rules, she was kind and luminous and wore a kickin' rock start belt.

I wonder, though, why she didn't dole out any Corey Hart.