Third place...

...is the second loser.


Yes, that's me in front of the giant Jim Beam sign.

So I didn't win, nor come close. The judges gave first place to a three-person band with a guy who played great guitar and a guy who played better harmonica, but it was led by a girl who couldn't sing. Simon Cowell would've made fun of her for trying. Second went to a two-man band (guitar and harmonica), who were also pretty good.

Then me, who, I think it's safe to say, had the best voice. I sang Norah Jones' "Turn Me On" (and people cheered whenever I quoted those lines, reinforcing my belief that people are really easy), and "Walking on Sunshine." I was clearly nervous, but apparently that's charming. Ah well. I think the judges were biased against those of us raised in the karaoke projects, but hey, I got a free drink card! Any of you come to Hanoi, your first rum and coke is on me.

Don't laugh...

...but I made the finals of a Hanoi talent show. And not only that, but I stand a very good chance of winning the $500 prize.

I said don't laugh!

Last Thursday an expat bar here held the last heat of their talent show, which I only found out about the day of. I had no intention of entering, but when I got there I realized some of the contestants were horrible. Expecting a well-rehearsed battle of the bands, I instead got a lone girl singing a capella. Badly.

So midway through I signed myself up and sang Dolly Parton's "9 to 5." Now that's a great song to sing with karaoke (as you Stateliners well know), but it's tough to sing a capella. I got nervous, started too high, asked to start again, started too high again, apologized and left the stage. But I'd won over the crowd, so they asked me up again. This time I did the gospelly part of "Shout!" ("I want you to know...I said I want you to know right now...") and rocked it.

Unfortunately it wasn't enough for the judges. "You're the best singer here, but you got nervous and forgot your lines, so we encourage you to come back next time," one said.

Luckily, the owners - who are, after all, shelling out the prize money - didn't agree. First they asked me to sing before the competition. Then they scrapped that and said, hell, let's just let her compete. So I'm in! I'm thrilled.

Right now I plan to sing "The Boy from New York City," which was a hit in a few outings at The Meeting Place in D.C. I dedicate it to all the boys I know from NYC: Mark G, Jeff S and Vivek (you did live there a few weeks). And Tuohey, too. Boston's close enough.

Every dog has his day...

...or doesn't.

I really need to start bringing my camera with me. Today I was on a xe om (motorcycle taxi) when I looked to my right and saw a motorcycle with five skinned dogs on the back. They all had their mouths open, and I wondered if they'd been beaten to death to make the meat more tender. I thought, "Man, I wish I could show this to the folks back home."

By the way, the Chinese and Vietnamese do eat dog, but there's just one type of dog that's raised to be eaten (and beaten). Lots of people also have dogs as pets. I see them everywhere and pet about half of them. Because I know you're wondering, I haven't eaten dog yet, but I do expect to one day. I told my students I'll probably do it just before leaving Vietnam because I don't want to like it.