Karaoke’s made its way from Japanese bars all the way to little kids’ birthday parties and video games. For commentator Andrew Lam and his family, Karaoke’s become more than entertainment.

On the recent occasion of my uncle’s sixty years birthday, my clan gathered from all over the country to celebrate. Instead of gifts, however, he had an unusual birthday wish: every one was asked to sing a song on the karaoke.

What began as an amusing exercise in merriment turned quickly into something I can only now describe as our first and only session of family group therapy. When it comes to matters close to the heart, my family is notoriously inexpressive. We rarely ever communicate to one another what we really feel. Immigrants and refugees from Vietnam, we often digest our losses and sorrows differently and alone. My uncle, who was going through a painful divorce, had not been able to convey to the family his profound sadness. He was still in love with his wife, but she had had it with him. He masks this with jokes and once said , while drunk , Vietnamese men don’t cry outward, all tears flow inward back into the heart.

But what we could not talk about, we discovered that some of us could at least sing out aloud. Thus the cousin whose wife took off with their daughter and left him high and dry sang Delilah, with a heart-breaking voice. And we managed to tell him that we were sorry for his troubles by singing along with every refrain. "Why, why, why Delilah, my, my, my Delilah"

Another aunt, now in declining health, took the mike to sing the theme song of Doctor Zhivago, dedicating it to the rest of us. “God speed my love,” She sang gamely in a hoarse whisper, “till you are mine again.”

My uncle’s turn and he chose a Vietnamese song titled "Come with Me, I Will Always Love You". His voice was beautiful but halfway through, he choked. Another aunt had to sing the rest of the song while my uncle cried. His tears were flowing outward finally and in front of everyone. As I listened to my relatives sing, it occurred to me that words “when song are turned poetic” become somehow acceptable in an Asian immigrant society where love and resentment often flow subterraneously.

And what song did I sing at my uncle’s birthday party? I sang a few, but the one I dedicated to my entire clan was Carole King’s "You’ve Got a Friend". You know the lyrics: "when you are down and troubled, and you need our help and care, and nothing, nothing is going right. Close your eyes and think of me. And soon I will be there to brighten even your darkest night." It was how I felt and I just went with it. In front of the family, I too, sang my heart out.

"~~ I'll be there. Ain't it good to know that you've got a friend ~~"

WORDS AND EXPRESSIONS:

clan 家庭
merriment 欢喜，嘻戏
have had it 受够了, 忍无可忍了
hoarse 嘶哑的
resentment 怨恨
subterraneous 地下的, 隐匿的