World records and the people who hold them have always fascinated me. As a child, watching That's Incredible, Real People, and the old Ripley's newsreels captivated me. I acquired my first copy of Guinness Book of World Records in the 2nd grade and treasured it just short of cooing, "My precious!" It's always been in my head to some day try to set a world record -- in what didn't matter -- so when the Colorado Belle Hotel Casino and Microbrewery in Laughlin, Nevada announced they would attempt to break the world record for "Largest Carol Service," I immediately signed on. (The free food voucher didn't hurt, either.)

        Today was the day. I arrived early, grabbed a coffee, a Krispy Kreme donut, and some cookies and took my place, front row center. Before the attempt, local celebrity-impersonators Mark Davis ("Elvis") and Rick Pierce ("Neil Diamond") entertained the crowd. John Earl with his Boogieman Band and legendary performer Louis Prima's daughter, Lena Prima, followed.

        I didn't mean to start something with Louis Prima's daughter. She sang a song her mother used to sing with Louis's band. It was a fast, double-time almost scat-like thing. Then she said she would sing it faster. I shook my head in horror. Don't do it! You'll explode! She turned to her backup singers, "He's shaking his head. You think I can do it?" she asked me. I know you can do it, I just don't want you to hurt yourself, dear. (Plus I'm being my usual SmartAz self.) "Okay, then," she said, and preceded to do it, quadruple-time. "You know better than to argue with me, right?" she asked me. Yes, I nodded. It won't happen again, ma'am. This paesano knows better than to argue with Italian women. "Good."

        Then the time came. Guinness auditors roamed around eyeing everyone. Our nemesis, Cambridge, Ontario, Canada, had grappled the record from New York City with 1,175 carolers singing for 28 minutes. New York had tried to wrest the title back, but couldn't even manage 600 measly singers. (Come on, New York! As Tammy Pescatelli would say, "What is wrong with you?!") We would sing 22 straight carols, taking 40-45 minutes, and, if we had enough people, become World Christmas Carol Champions. Vince McMahon, eat your heart out!

        It started with "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas" and ended the better part of an hour later with "We Wish you a Merry Christmas." In between, a parking lot full of people -- take that New York! -- belted holiday greetings at the top of their lungs. Despite the song leaders sometimes being as clueless as the crowd about how to sing the songs, we foolhardily ducked our heads and braved on. We sang about snow in 70-degree weather, defied 30-plus m.p.h. winds, and chuckled at the irony of the song Sleigh Ride's line, "We will sing the songs that we love to sing without a single stop!"

        Did we succeed? Did we kick Cambridge, Ontario's butt? As of this writing we don't know. We await final tabulations. I certainly hope we made it. After nearly 30 years, this oversized second grader still wants to be a world record holder. Whether the attempt was successful or not, I still intend to set my own record. (The comment box is open for suggestions.) Sure I have to battle the entire nation of India, where they see setting a world record as a way of differentiating oneself from one's billion neighbors, and religious devotees regularly perform stunts such as rolling on the ground across the country wearing only rags as a sign of piety, but I think it's doable.

        See, it's all gone to my head. I feel empowered. There's a Cox commercial in which a man says the new digital cable has arrived. "Where's the cable guy?" his wife asks. The man reads the three-step instructions ("Plug in -- Turn on -- Watch") and replies, "I'm going to do it myself." She looks at him dubiously. When it actually works, he -- full of empowerment -- says, "I'm going to build a rocket ship." Right now, I am that man.

        I think I'll go climb Everest or something.