Did you know that
in some parts of rural Greenland one in two teenagers
have tried to commit suicide? I just read an article about
it this week. I know I should be paying more attention
to stuff like the inauguration (Beyonce -- I never
know where to put the accent in her name, sorry --
sang "At Last" at the ball as if she'd
read this recap last week and knew that I was hoping
someone high-profile would trot it out again to remind
us all that no one's performed it in public in the
past five minutes, and honestly, it was lovely, so I
sorta don't mind much) and that also I should
be updating you on breaking news in the unfolding
drama vortex that is my American Idol promotional
gumball machine (This week? TOO MANY GUMBALLS
DISPENSED AT THE SAME TIME!), but I'm mostly just
fascinated by all these kids killing themselves.
You'd think it would be kinda rad to live in
Greenland where it's nice and cold all the time and
there's lots of open space to do doughnuts on the ice
in a car you borrowed from a stranger and that
you're operating while somewhat intoxicated.
But no, apparently the wide-open spaces feel isolating, and
now that everyone has a TV satellite dish and the Internet
and they get to watch bullshit shows like American
Idol, they're all unhappy that they
can't "go to Hollywood" and be famous.
So if any of you Greenland kids are reading this, just
please knock off the dying. Eventually you'll
get older and you can leave your boring village and go
do something awesome with your life. And if you do
wind up coming to Hollywood, please understand that
being famous is ridiculous and that the real reason to
come here, the true appeal of this city, is the over 4,000
taco trucks that constantly drive around feeding
people delicious foods. I've lived here for 10
years. You can trust these facts.
So they're
auditioning in San Francisco and Louisville, Ky., this week.
When I think of San Francisco, the city with much better
weather (again, I like it a little colder than most
folks) to the north of my home in Los Angeles, where
the sun just tries to skin-cancer me all the time, I think
of the following things:
1. Aquarius
Records, from which I recently purchased an amazing cassette
of this Italian band called Ovskum. You should listen to
them because they're really good. And now
I'd like to give the owner a personal greeting:
Hey, Andee!
2. Mrs. Doubtfire
3. Adobe Books, a
perfectly homelike used bookstore. Go buy a book there
next time you visit. They get lonely just sitting there,
unbought. Give one a home. Especially if it's
my dumb book, for which you should feel especially
sorry.
4. Super Seven,
where there are tons of Japanese monster toys I need to
own.
5. I rode a bike
across the Golden Gate Bridge once.
6. My friend
Mike's house where he has this crazy Richie Rich
shower that has about 32 nozzles that spray you all
over. You need to be a scientist to make it
work.
"Who
doesn't love San Francisco?" asks my new
favorite judge, Kara DioGuardi. Um, lots of people,
man. If memory serves, the Republicans used Sarah
Palin as a mouthpiece to bash "San Francisco
values" during the election. Naturally,
Starship's "We Built This City on Rock and
Roll" managed to escape Republican wrath. They
just wanted a cute new way to hate homosexuals and get
away with saying it.
OK, so. The
people going through to Hollywood:
1. Tatiana Nicole
del Toro, a straight-up mess of a PYT who's wearing a
weird minidress tube with a long tulle-like train attached
to the bottom. She's all pouty, head-tilty,
terrifyingly giggly, kissy-facey, and longingly,
hopefully, eyelid-fluttery desperate. In other words,
she's excellent TV. Things she says:
- "I know that I deserve to be the next
American Idol more than anyone."
- "I'm a full-time singer,
musician, songwriter, writer, assistant
director, model, film actor."
- Referring to one of her friends, who is, it
would seem, a brain-ray-zapping, Escape to
Witch Mountain-level professional
psychic: "She is one of the world's
most powerful psychics. ... I just love her
'cuz I love her!"
-
"Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheethat'sgreatIlovehavingawonderfulpersonalitythankyousomuch AmericanIdol
- "It would make my heart complete to know
that my album was out."
- "I desire to be the American Idol more
than anyone has ever wanted anything."
- "If I have to outsing everyone, one by
one, on the planet to get a record deal, I will.
And I have."
Honestly, I
don't remember her outsinging me. Unless she came to
my house one Sunday morning and drugged me and we had
a "Mama Tried"-off. But even then I
think I would have wiped the floor with her. Ain't
nobody can match my Merle Haggard. Furthermore,
I'd like to ask her up close if she really
desires this more than, oh, say, those people who desired to
exit East Berlin in the '80s, or as much as
Milo and Otis wanted to get home, or as much as
Shackleton wanted to get his boat unstuck from the South
Pole, or more than Katie Holmes would like her old life
back. But even so, I like this chick a whole lot. And
though I realize that Vote for the Worst's
power only extends so far and that most viewers are still
calling and texting for the person they really love to
hear sing, I just want to throw my support behind this
woman going all the way in more and more skin-baring
outfits. Maybe she and Bikini Girl can have a stripping
match or a hair-pulling battle.
Paula says yes to
Tatiana because kookoo-bananas loves its own reflection
and might need help not-designing the outfits for Bratz
2: Brattier and Ya Know It. And then? When she
leaves the audition room there are some older people there
who hug her and who are willing to be seen doing that
on camera. People actually know this woman.
2. Some clean-cut
guy with kids. They send him through, not because of
his voice, which is an odd I-swallowed-a-Neville-Brother
sort of thing that reminds me of Horatio Sanz singing
the "Cocoa Butter" song, but because of
his kids. They think his kids are cute.
One of them hugs
Simon. On the couch my husband says, "That
guy's pants are really tight. You can totally
see the baby-maker in there." I make TiVo go
back. He's right.
3, 4, and 5. This
one guy, this one woman, and this girl who looks like a
model. And that's not me giving them short shrift.
That's how fast they pass by the screen and how
nameless the show makes them. Pop pop pop. Just like
that. See you on Hollywood Week. Or maybe not.
7. Adam Wicked.
His name is Adam and he's been in the Los Angeles
cast of Wicked. I want to set fire to his hair.
It's that messy, asymmetrical thing that works
on Christian Siriano and certain women but almost no
one else. It makes me face-punchingly angry. Am I
wrong for feeling that way? I don't think I am.
Anyway, he sings. He's good. The judges call
him "theatrical." Translation: "How
many dicks have you sucked today?" Paula calls
him "diverse," which means nothing. And
then the guy talks about how Paula was his first pop concert
and then about "flying" and
"blowing kisses in the wind." I have stopped
understanding any words exiting his mouth.
8. A man named
Kai. His mom has a seizure disorder. He takes care of her
every day. This is milked for almost five minutes of screen
time. Because if you aren't morbidly obese,
frighteningly and/or flamingly gay, a first-year ESL
student or off your I'm-crazy meds, then the best way
to get on camera is to have a heartwarming parent
story. I consulted with my new commentary guy, first
season Idol top-tenner Jim Verraros, who told
me about how he was the first contestant with a
heartwarming parent story:
"They sent
a staff member to us to have a mini-interview and asked me
the question, 'What is something that most people
don't know about you?' I told them my parents were
both deaf and that I was fluent in sign
language.
"I then
got a call back and was told to sing for the judges. I had
NO idea who Randy was, and very little about Simon for
that matter; all I cared about was singing for Paula
Abdul. As I went into the room, they mentioned that my
parents were deaf and asked me to interpret the song I
was going to sing through sign language, something I was
totally unprepared to do. I'd say they knew exactly
what they were doing, but so did I. Although I wasn't
perfect, they thought it was a beautiful story,
knowing that parents who could never hear their son sing
would win viewers over. At the time, it really didn't
hit me until well into the Hollywood auditions that it
wasn't about singing so much as it was playing the
part of the boy next door. So I gave them what they wanted,
and they gave me airtime."
Well played,
Verraros!
On to the go-home
crew:
1. The plaid coat
guy who makes crazy faces when he sings and, when
confronted about his unusual hair color, tells the judges,
"The carpet matches the drapes." Best
EWWW moment of the show.
2. The guy who
can solve a Rubik's Cube.
3. The girl who
brings the anatomy chart printouts with her and
mispronounces words like "larynx,"
"pharyngeal," and "trachea." She
sings an original composition called "Make
Sweet Love" in the way that early Mary J. Blige
would if Mary J. Blige were a horrible singer. Then she
talks about how she's singing from "the wrong
rectum," how much she likes Paula for having
"a very hit song in the early '80s" and
about how the Simon and Randy tried to
"irak-titate" her. I just can't bring
myself to mock this person because she seems like she
might have an actual disorder that extends way past
her inability to read. It hurts to listen to her
speak.
Other than that
stuff, the highlights of the Tuesday night episode are
when Seacrest explains what the Summer of Love was while
they show stock footage of a bunch of people who
probably all went on to become advertising executives
or to give LSD to their pre-school-aged children and
be coolly dissected by Joan Didion in Slouching Towards
Bethlehem. The best part is hearing Seacrest
describe a lazy lifestyle that is antithetical to
everything he's about.
The other great
thing is the mascara commercial with Linda Evangelista
looking like an extremely digital robot of prettiness as she
endorses the virtues of something called
"beauty tubes." It seems that these beauty
tubes attach themselves like tiny snakes to the ends of your
eyelashes. Dear lady readers, please go try this stuff
and tell me how it works.
Then on Wednesday
night they're in Louisville and the banjos are
playing and the upper arm fat is jiggling and
everybody's havin' a good ol'
dentistry-shunning time.
Yes to:
1. The teen
runaway who was once signed to A&M and got dropped. So
she's the Carly they'll cop to. Mrs. Smithson
has opened the door to "I got shat out by the
music industry" being a legitimate story line to
which people will respond. Two problems I have with her: She
botches the lyrics to Pat Benatar's "We
Belong" (To the NIGHT, honey. The NIGHT) and
she's got some majorly whorey nails. Tighten up that
brand right now or you're done.
2. A blond guy
who sings sort of countryish.
3. The
hyperventilating guy who says he's a "dueling
pianist."
4. The
stay-at-home mom who sings "Dr. Feelgood" VERY
VERY VERY LOUDLY. Kara tells her to go home and have
sex. Somehow, in spite of that stuff the episode is so
boring that my husband's telling me about the reissue
of Tone Loc's Loc'd After Dark and
I'm way more excited about it than any of this.
5. And then
suddenly a girl walks in who might actually be too good for
all of it. Her name is Leneshe Young. She's adorable.
Been in and out of homeless shelters. She sings well.
She wrote her own song and it's not awful. I
feel an almost-emotion for her prospects on this show, but
I'm going to keep it in check. I've been
hurt too much ... Carly ... Melinda Doolittle ... I
still feel all of it. I can't love a contestant
who's not Fantasia or Kelly. They just get the
heave-ho and then I spend the rest of the time annoyed
by Blake Lewis. As she leaves Seacrest says, "Every
cloud has a silver lining." Unless, of course, it
doesn't.
The ones who get
sent home:
1. A montage of
people who are just there to be funny on TV.
2. A hick
who's a descendant of the doctor who mended John
Wilkes Booth's leg. He's got a scary
Deliverance face, and then, because of that and
because there's nothing else going on here and
the editors were desperate to create some kind of drama and
because he makes the grave mistake of exiting the
audition room with the words "be
careful," he is told that he's just threatened
the judges. Paula even scolds him for saying something
"not normal" to them. (Think about that
for a second, Paula Abdul telling you that you say
weird things.) Except for there's this thing where
all of those morons are wrong. Having spent a lot of
time in the Southern half of the United States and
having lived my entire life related to people with
names like Etha Jo and male cousins and uncles who just
dispense with everything but their initials --
I'm family to C.H., J.D., and H.D., and those
are just the ones I can name off the top of my head -- I can
state as a fact that "be careful" is
just a thing that some people say sometimes, as in
"Y'all be careful!" It ain't a
threat, it's just Southern. Dumbasses.
3. A woman Simon
compares to a donkey. Nice.
4. A guy with a
badly made suit and crooked teeth. He's an
after-school tutor. Sings a song by Jay and the
Americans. Has an adult sippy cup.
5. A hyper guy
who shouts "WHOOOOO!" and "I'M
HERE TO WORK! THIS IS MY JOB!" You
didn't know auditioning could be a full-time job, did
you? That's because you don't live in
Los Angeles.
6. The woman
voted "Most Humorous" by her senior class in
high school. Because she's an awful singer,
Kara thinks it's all a joke. "Most
Humorous," get it? The auditionee begins to cry. Kara
feels bad. This is because Kara's new here and
still feels human emotions.
Oh, yeah, check
this out. I follow-up-question J.V. about the number of
people who auditioned on his day way back in 2002.
Here's his answer:
"I don't
know ... couldn't tell you. Maybe ... 50 or so?"