Open Door Op Shop's Sing Along Afternoon: Yes, and Yes Again

And there was gathered a rude crew of about 25 karaoke buffs, in the Church Hall next to the Chemist Warehouse, in Sebastopol. Children, the elderly, Open Door Op Shop mainstays, area people, Buninyong throw overs and two Jans, congregated adjacent to a moveable feast of coconut balls, lemon slice, brownies, donuts, chippies, cabanossi and cheese. 

Inhibitions were shed swiftly with a feisty round of “Getting to know you” bingo, led by Cathy, who has been stripping the reticence of others since Adam chucked his fig leaf into the shrubs. 

Important questions were resolved: Do you call a parmigiana a parma or a parmi? Is a hotdog a sandwich? Do you think zoos are sad? Jeff, whose hearing is not the best, was asked “Have you ever fallen asleep watching TV?” six times, and he answered “Yes” each time. Indeed, his answer was “Yes” to every question, including “Do you think Sweet Caroline is overrated?”, indicating perhaps that he was not hearing the questions correctly. 

For verily the sound in that humble hall did clatter and bounce, from the smooth wooden floor to the clerestoric walls, up, through the trusses to the vault above. Indeed, quite hell for a hearing aid, and yet Jeff said “Yes” and “Yes” again. Positivity was his theme, as it was for all in attendance.

Suddenly a sound like the rushing of wind and a feeling of warmth filled the room. Actually, it was “Summertime”, crooned with aplomb by the Jan with the awesome pipes, and she was so good most who had already nominated a song to sing had second thoughts.  

This was with the exception of a string of kids, who leapt at the chance to mangle a selection of songs from K-pop demon hunter, which is an animated franchise about Korean pop stars who hunt demons. While the microphone handling was not a highlight, you did get the impression that they were enjoying themselves, which is the most important thing. 

A showstopper was a young fellow from Sebastopol, who smashed out the first verse of “Twinkle Twinkle little star” to rapturous applause. It was extremely wholesome and sweet, the stuff that proud Mums and childhood memories are made of.

Special mention must also go to the other Jan, who led a truly funereal rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”. It was quiet, as if an entire congregation chose the same moment to mouth and not utter a hymn. After you have breathed your final breath and are gliding towards the light, this will be your soundtrack. A tunnel of jaws chewing out tiny sounds. 

After a break for chatting, tea and chowing down a singalong ensued. You are my Sunshine looped to the very edge of ego dissolution, then a bit of the old YMCA to get the arms moving and suck everyone back into their bodies, and finally Nutbush City Limits and the inevitable line dancing, which we all learnt as children and perfected in the Canopy Club in ‘92. 

And so it was that the good folk of Ballarat South were galvanised in song for a happy spell. No voice was especially beautiful nor was there any special grace in the dancing, but the intention was top notch, and the lemon slice was outstanding. Do events like this bring people together? As Jeff would say, “Yes” and “Yes” again.