Oh, the legions of friends I’ve tortured via ‘Karaoke Revolution’ both on my XBox and Wii (via Gamecube emulation). The ten-step script to this end goal is a relatively simple one:

1. I suggest playing video game karaoke.
2. Friends #1 and #2 both adamantly deny the possibility.
3. In response to looks of horror, I justify how ‘big [karaoke] is’ in other cities.
4. My wife loyally backs me up. “It really is ‘all that’ in [random popular place.]”
5. To inspire confidence, she cracks the ice via an Avril Lavigne or Dido number. (The Mrs. has a great set of pipes).
6. We force Friend #1 into following suit. After initial self-conscious whisper singing, he/she survives the virgin number. This precludes a defiant, paraphrased proclamation that, ‘video game karaoke is not the open-heart surgery originally feared.’
7. Friend #2 gives it a whirl. “If he/she can do that, damn straight I can too.” Microphone clutched boldly, friend #2 likewise survives.
8. Friend #1 demands a second song by name. Mid-song. He/she subsequently tries to figure out a way to rig scoring…gives up…then goes back to simply singing.
9. Friend #2 returns to the fray. Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

10. Friends #1 and #2 hog the microphones for the next couple of hours, the latest duo of instant karaoke gaming addicts. Being uncool is cool again.

From that point forward, we’re the ‘Karaoke Couple’ to friends #1 and #2. To this newest tandem, we’ve become the two people empowering them to make asses out of themselves in the interests of catharsis-driven fun. Every time there’s a subsequent get-together, we’re asked to whip out video game karaoke. Or, better yet, bring it along if on the road. (Yes, I’ve lugged my XBox to others’ abodes upon request.)

It’s only gotten worse since I’ve added ‘Dance Dance Revolution (DDR): Ultimate Party’ (Wii) to the fray. Sure, its one thing to sing off key after two beers, another to fall over your feet for a solid four minutes at a time. Akin to karaoke, however, the embarrassment quickly fades. Getting a turn to video game dance resembles ordering a beer in a packed bar; only the hardiest go next.

Don’t get me wrong; my wife and I are neither karaoke nor DDR masters. Heck, she’s been known to swear profusely at the latter’s high barrier of entry. Myself? Every song attempted sounds like geriatric Tony Bennett. (Yes, I croon grunge music.) Related – and as blackmail-laden it seems – we’re certainly not in it for the tales of off-key screeching we now have on friends. If they sound like felines in pain, we’re the karaoke versions of ‘Pet Cemetery.’

Thankfully, we are not alone in our love of humiliating, game-based music and dance experiences. As I hit another Gamestop midnight opening (see Madden experience here) -- this time for ‘Guitar Hero III’ -- the store is not full of closet shower singers, rather a dozen plus, openly proud rhythm gamers.

Likewise the handful of local Joes and Janes we witnessed eager and willing to give the nationwide ‘Singstar’ mall tour kiosks a vocal go. (My wife and I have a pair of experiential t-shirts – ‘I rocked the mic’ - to prove our lack of shame that fateful day.)

Eight million systems sold later, the Nintendo Wii’s success tapped into something we’ve tortured friends with for years: an inherent desire to unleash everyone’s hidden performer within.

One can only hope this is a bellwether of gaming things to come. It’s time for a culture change away from trash-talking, online gaming gangstas to playing Halo 3 for the hell of it. Call me old-fashioned, but even ‘Pong’ was never a litmus test for being cool.