Every year I say I'm not going to watch it.
I'm not going to watch the exploitation of really horrible noise makers who dress funny, take themselves too seriously or who truly have no idea that they can't sing. Yet, like a bad accident. . I can't turn away.
I feel sorry for the young people who sing in church every week. They're constantly told how great they are. They practice singing in their rooms, with their friends. They sing for hours, holding a hairbrush, dancing in front of the mirror. But. . .they can't sing. It truly brings to mind the old adage, "can't carry a tune in a bucket." They have no concept of intonation, resonance, basic pronunciation. They PUSH the sound from the back of their throats out through their noses. They scream each note as if it were their last. They're so desperate, loud, painful to listen to.
I feel sorry for the delusional people showing up in costumes, strange outfits or with props. They don't know how crazy they look and that we truly are laughing AT them, not with them. Some of them were just trying to get their 15 mins of fame by appearing on the show as one of the strange people getting cut during the first few weeks. But, some of them truly thought they were helping their chances by standing out and being unique.
Why is this so fascinating? I know people who ONLY watch the first few weeks of the show to laugh at the rejected contestants. Does it make us feel better when we see someone else being rejected? I start questioning my own abilities after the first couple of weeks of this show. . seriously. . like, I used to sing at church. I used to actually be the music minister. I led choirs, I did solos, I performed in musicals. Now, I wonder, did everyone just humor me because I was the only person willing to do the job? I know it's stupid, but I do wonder. . .
So, here we are. . another season of Idol. I'll pick out a few favorites, follow them through to the end, voting, cheering, downloading their iTunes singles. (I still listen to Adam's version of Ring of Fire.) I'm already partial to the cute little blond with the huge family and two brothers with Downs Syndrome. I'll pick out a few really, horrible auditions and hope they make a comeback in the finale. AND, all along the way, I'll sing a little less loudly at church, make sure my great new outfit isn't just another version of my "uniqueness" and try to pick up on subtle hints that I'm not as cool as I think I am. Even though, I think I'm pretty ok.