March 23rd, 2004

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Sweet Lord In Heaven is There Anything As Great as American Idol?

And so, another night of American Idol comes to a close. Oh my, oh my. It was "country night" on the big stage - which meant lots of wobbly renditions, which, to paraphrase Paula, "They tried to make their own." I think that's American Idol-speak for "they sang off key," or possibly, "Well, at least we locked the doors so the audience can't flee in terror." Just a thought. Also, the Hobbit proved once again he's a dork (which kind of makes me love him just a little bit), the Red Head forgot the words, and Matt Rodgers sang like a girl.

Actually, my favorite moment of tonight's American Idol wasn't even on TV. It's when my roommate, callmeringo, said of Fantasia Barino, "She's like a snake. She can unhinge her jaw and swallow ... a pony."

I've been trying to figure out the point of the little profiles before each contestant performs. They go a little like this: "When I was a child I just loved to sing, I would sing in front of the mirror and at Yankee Stadium while my mom drank away my pay. And then I would bring shoes to little homeless kids." The Olympics do the same kind of thing, only there's go more this: "Nadia was born in a ghetto in the heart of Moscow and had to trade sexual favors for Ice Skating lessons. At twelve her mother died, and Nadia was turned over to a state-run orphanage. She was forced to work sixty hours a week at a meat packing plant and skate in the wee hours of the morning. " In comparison, American Idol's profile pieces just don't measure up. Where's the human drama and suffering? I'm sorry, but the Red Head telling us he's "definitely getting more attention from the females" just doesn't have that edge I want in my 30 second life stories.

P.S. I hope if I'm ever the subject of one of these little intros they get my mom to say, "She was a clumsy kid. Always falling off curbs and down stairs. Finally when she was about eight we decided the joke was over and got her eyes examined." Of course, knowing my mom, she'd probably just start making stuff up if someone tried to interview her. Next thing you know she'd talk about my staring turn on Romper Room and the time I sang the national anthem at the '88 World Series. Oh, and I'm pretty sure she'd call me Molly, which is the dog's name.

This year's crop of American Idol contestants doesn't have a Clay Aiken. I don't think I want to have waffles with any of them. The Red Head kind of reminds me of Conan O'Brien, who was once upon a time on my celebrity ex-husband list. I think if he played Conan's Mini-Me in a buddy cop action movie I'd go see it. Especially if they could get Snoop Dogg to play the police commissioner. I love Snoop Dogg. I don't know why, I just do.

I try not to watch all of the "results" shows for American Idol. Mostly, because of those sad group music numbers at the beginning. One person butchering an American classic is funny, a whole group is roughly equal to those Quizno's commericials with the lopsided hamsters. Just scary. Those Quizno's commercials are about the freakiest thing I've ever seen. My other roommate, Sali, like's to sing their creepy little coupon song to me. I'm a little shaky just thinking about it.