Karaoke brings light to Auburn's senior community

"Will you still love me tomorrow?" The Shirelles sing – but not at the current moment. Right now, their sweetly-soft question is intoned by the throatier voice of someone in their 80s and not in the band. It's a unique question, one being posed by this new singer to the ages now, given they're a widower. It makes one think about the strength it takes to ask about someone's love when they have no more tomorrows. Of course, the woman singing is probably not thinking about any of that. She's come to get lost in a melody or two, in a memory or a few, and sing to her love somewhere in a tomorrow we all eventually get to, some sooner than others. Her name is Carla, her story one of many that play out here frequently. The scene, a karaoke party; its setting, the Mt. Vernon Grange Hall off Bell Road in Auburn, where karaoke is held every Tuesday evening from 5-9 p.m. And for about $10, you can get pot-luck style food, a cup of coffee, a loose atmosphere and some wholesome time with friends. This isn't a bar with the colorful assortment of drunken patrons butchering Katy Perry's "Roar"; it's something more cosmically unique: a collection of characters that mostly aren't younger than 50 – walking, talking libraries of stories, and not a smartphone glued to a hand – just people socializing, dancing, singing. Reminiscing as the Big River Band sings. The collection of songs range from country standards – Kenny Rodgers, Conway Twitty, Hank Williams, The Man in Black Johnny Cash, of course – to doo-wop like The Shirelles and Dion and the Belmonts or Jay and the Americans. And even some yacht rock thrown in for good measure. If you go to more than a few of these in succession, you'll find it's mostly the same batch of songs, too. The novelty of this is interesting considering those singing are mostly battling back the ravages of losing their memories – the cost of a long life, maybe. This is how Carla copes with the loss of her husband, who passed away three years ago. Both were frequent karaoke-goers who continued to be even after the onset of Bill's (her husband) dementia. The doctor explained to Carla that Bill continuing to go could help him with his declining cognition. And it did … for a little while at least. There's no crying in baseball – but that is categorically false when it comes to song, with many songs simply being no more than crying out loud and doing it poetically. For the seniors like Carla, who make the pilgrimage every week to sing and dance their hearts out, it's community, a way to channel their grief, to cope with loneliness or heartache, a way to smile and have fun with others. Steve McCoy runs the event with his partner Sandy Eloff and has been for years. For him, there's plenty of soul-enriching benefits. "We host karaoke mostly for seniors because it is so important for older folks to get out and have a night out with other friends," McCoy said. "Singing is good for keeping your mind sharp and it helps keep your lungs working good. This from many doctors I have talked to. Dancing is such a great way to exercise." As the night goes on, you realize you're looking at people refusing to grow old – or to let age dig in easily. It's almost like the real-life version of the old Twilight Zone, where the residents in an old-folks home break out every night to play kick the can, which transforms them into their childhood selves. McCoy adds, "Many of the singers and dancers have told me that karaoke is the only night they go out. (It's) just a really good way for older people to get out and have some fun." That fun is what makes the quieter moments bearable in many respects. When Carla dances luminously to "This Magic Moment," time falls away from her, and for a brief moment, she's that girl again being twirled by her sweetheart somewhere in the past. It's a moment where she hears him answer her question about whether he will love her tomorrow, in a time where she can forget that tomorrow is never guaranteed. It's brief; reality will call her back. But then another song starts to play, and so does another chance to see him in her mind – it's a date with her memory he never breaks (even though he's no longer here physically), and it makes Carla smile. Wherever tomorrow is, she knows he'll be there.