BY JESSIE SCHMAC
Schmacj@marietta.edu
10 O’clock on Thursday night. Outside, Marietta is relatively silent. Inside the Marietta Brewing Company, the night is just beginning. The lights dim slightly, the waitress empties a few ashtrays in a rush to leave for the night, and the bartender leaves his perch behind the bar and ventures near the door. He’ll be taking a cover charge from the ‘under 21’ flock who just want to sing. Here, karaoke seems larger than life.

It’s in the back of the narrow brewery, though, where everyone swarms to. The back is lit mostly by the cherries of burning cigarettes. The smoke stings the eyes and mixes with the smell of sweat and shots of whiskey that circle a number of the tables. The Deejay introduces the first singer of the night. A man in his mid to upper 40’s with a mustache faded white with age takes the mic. He and Axl Rose are ‘dancin’ with Mr. Brownstone.’

The Deejay sings every time someone else is not. He keeps the spirit, keeps the mind off anything else but karaoke or takes a couple seconds for an ad drop of some upcoming event. There is never just one person singing. No one is alone through the journey of a song. The only time the singing stops is through a musical break, some 12, some 5, some 17 meas