Sorry for posting so late today but, oh man, I was totally hung over this morning. Me and some buddies were out all last night doing rhetoraoke. I hadn’t done rhetoraoke in years, but my friend Randall is way into it and he suggested that we head over to The Oration Station, and since I’d already had a few beers I was, like, whatever, that sounds cool.
We got there around 9:20 and ordered a pitcher and started looking through the selection book, but of course Randall already knew what he want to perform and put his slip in right away. There must not have been very many requests in because he got called, like, 20 minutes later, and did Mahatma Gandhi’s “Quit India” speech. He did a spot-on impersonation too, with the gestures and everything. I felt totally sorry for the girl who went after him and did just a so-so version of Elizabeth Glaser’s address to the 1992 Democratic National Convention.
I didn’t know many of the speeches in the book so I just did the old standard, Lincoln’s “Gettysburg Address”. I was pretty tipsy by then and screwed up the cadence in some parts, but I managed to get all the way to “we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground” before I had to start looking at the TelePropter, which was cool. It went so well that I put another request in and did “Tear Down This Wall” by Reagan because, you know, I’m into that 80’s stuff.
Bruce was bummed that The Oration Station didn’t have any lectures in the book, so after Martha did Queen Elizabeth I “Spanish Armada Speech” we headed over to another rhetoraoke place, Pints & Prelection down in Pioneer Square. Bruce was pretty shitfaced by then and he still tried to do Feynman’s “Motion of Planets Around the Sun,” and he, like, forgot half the words and totally fucked up the equations. It was pretty embarassing. After that he was kinda pissy and wanted to go home, but then Randall did a really good “The Ballot or the Bullet” by Macolm X and that got the crowd all fired up, so we decided to stay a little longer.
Then we started doing Tequila shooters and everything’s pretty hazy after that. This morning Randall sent me an email and said that I was so drunk that I tried to do Kennedy’s “Ich bin ein Berliner” address later that night. Fuck, I don’t remember that at all. I hope I didn’t make an ass of myself, but I probably did.