Singing ‘Sophisticated Lady’ Would Be Hilarious With A Crotch-Grab

I raced around my studio apartment, whirling-dervish-like, shoving all my necessary performance accoutrements in my laptop bag---got the mic, ok, now the power cord….shit, the plastic packaging rings won’t come off and I’m late…sheet music, check---and the Amstel Light I shared with my friend Catherine wasn’t doing much to help my nerves. It just made me slightly gassy. (Or was that, “classy”?)