Top Idol’s Big Fraking Idol Adventure: Part 3
I apologize for the delay in posting this, but I’ve been busy. Had to go back to real life after 5 days in the bizarro fantasyland of Los Angeles, work, show a Viking around Boston, et al. So please, accept my apologies and keep reading.
Part 2 of my Big Fraking Idol Adventure ended in an appropriate spot, as it is now time for the real show to begin. Ryan Seacrest emerges. Immediately, I try to see if he really does have a gay vibe. Seacrest is wearing jeans with some funky pocket design and a red plaid shirt with black elbow pads, finished off with a black baseball hat advertising something. I don’t really think he’s gay, in all honesty, he just embodies Los Angeles. He is, quite simply, the personification of L.A. And since a lot of men in L.A. look like douchebags decked out in WTF apparel, I’m going to venture an educated guess and say he’s not gay, he’s just L.A.
Seacrest runs around and signs little kids’ arms, well, he just scribbles on them and it’s kind of funny. I realize I can’t totally hate Ryan Seacrest, even though I don’t like little kids or L.A. douchebags, or people who can only read from a teleprompter. There is something sincerely likable about the guy. I worry if I’ve been standing too long or injesting some odorless gas piped through the vents, because I am feeling almost…nice? I guess he’s okay, although he did produce such standout TV shows as Sunset Tan, Bromance and that one with Denise Richards going to Ralph’s and matchmaker appointments (I think? Never saw it.)
He announces the contestants, who finally come out on the stage. I diligiently clap over my head. People are going nuts. I start wishing I would have had a drink or seven before doing into this shit show because I just do not come equipped with such a “natural” enthusiasm. But hey, that’s a good thing.
All five contestants stand on stage and its kind of weird, but kind of not weird. My first thought is wow, I spend way too much time writing about this shit because this almost seems like I know these idiots. And then I understand some of the crazy fantard mentality, but not really. Because I’m NORMAL.
The four Mentos Moms next to me are totally whooping it up. I know at least half of them are totally suspect of me. I realize they will be a tougher crowd than the Crazy Sombrero Ladies. Especially after the one proclaimed herself a cougar at the top of her lungs.
Fake Kara and Fake Paula have meandered in at some point, although I didn’t notice. The awesomeness of Fake Randy had caused me to overlook such things, but I did think it was rather hilarious both of the Fake Lady Judges were about 30 pounds heavier than their real-life counterparts.
Goddess Debbie the Stage Manager has informed us they have to get a bunch of shots of the kiddies standing in a circle looking all serious. This takes forever. But La Princesa del Mariachi is totally endearing. She’s also very pretty, but her hair looks the best I’ve seen it all season. But just from her banter with the guys on stage, with Goddess Debbie, et al, I absolutely adore this kid even more. Because she’s just a kid and she’s also the most relaxed of any of the other contestants up there, mainly because she’s young and just does not give a frak.
Gokeyoke keeps waving to fans. I begin silently debating whether or not he’s a total douchebag or just completely clueless. Most of all, I am just sad Mole Boy is rocking the hat, although I knew it was going to happen. Of all the things I wanted to see at American Idol, I really, really, really wanted to see Quatto The Mole in all its moley glory.
Oh and Hot By Default is totally Hot By Default in person and for the life of me, I really do not understand why women are losing their shit over Gokeyoke.
La Princesa del Mariachi is just awesome. Seacrest jokes about the Top 5 being like the “Backstreet Boys” and utters the typical Backstreet’s back all right, to which our fair La Princesa lets out mock defiance. I don’t understand why this girl has been in the Bottom 3 so often. Oh yeah. Mostly moms and assorted middle-aged women are voting for their precious male Idols. (Plus, the amount a woman can vote for Idol, I’ve been waiting for the scientific study showing a clear and definite link to extreme Idol fanship & voting habits with menopausal hot flashes.)
After getting all these shots all the way and offering on about three occasions to hold Julie up on my shoulders so the poor girl can see past the pre-collegiate douchebags, we finally get this shit show on the road. Starting with Hot By Default!
The Way You Look Tonight
I think he was better in rehearsals than during the show, however, I think there is even something more honest about him when seeing him live. No, I don’t want to kidnap him and stick him a cage where I read to him Richard Dawkins every night until he succumbs to Stockholm Syndrome and becomes my cabana boy. I just think the kid has some understated talent and was meant to be cannon fodder on this show, making it farther than anyone ever intended. But there is a genuine honesty in his performances and yes, I totally got excited when I saw the prepackage (they do play these at rehearsals on that big screen, which really isn’t all that big in reality) and Jamie Foxx expressed his excitement and desire to record an album with him. Finally! Dude gets some props. Hell, Tarentino, Jamie Foxx…but he can never get total and complete love from the judges.
The Fake Judges make their “critiques”, which is hilarious because they all say nice things (gotta get the contestants motivated and confident, remember?) but do it in the same style as the judges. The same sort of thing. Which means Fake Randy calls him dawg and dude and tells him he works it out and is white hot. Now Fake Paula and Fake Simon were nothing special but holy shit, when Fake Kara, opened her mouth, I nearly pissed myself.
Just like Fake Randy, she is almost over the top with her impression. You can tell this chick is so skilled at immitating Shit For Brains, she nails the exact intonation of the twatiness in her voice, as well as the same exact sanctimonious comments.
And listening to these “critques”, I start wondering if ALL the judge’s critiques are pre-written to some extent. There are those two teleprompters at the tables, so…
I talk to the Mentos Moms again, one of which was originally from Massachusetts. She’s the one standing in front of me. The one directly to my right is the most chatty, but I swear she knows I am an evil blogger. I said I had a blog…just didn’t tell them the name. I can tell right from the get-go these women know their Idol. The one next to me chats with me, though, about who I think should win.
Mentos Mom #1: So you don’t like Danny Gokey?
Me: No. I prefer Kris Allen. I think he is more marketable than Gokey. What kind of album would you make with Gokey? I do think Lambert will win.
(I cannot believe I am admitting I had this coversation several times that day. I mean, what the frak happened to my life? When I went to grad school, no one told me I would be blogging about American Idol. I mean…of all things? And I’m like, well versed in this stuff and I don’t even VOTE…and now I’m standing in CBS Studios during a rehearsal show discussing such things as contestant marketablility and attempting to give viable evidence as to back up my opinion rather than a simple, they suck. I begin to feel a little lightheaded, am I locking my knees? When I was a flag girl in the marching band, people would lock their knees and faint and…can someone tell me how I got here and why?)
Mentos Mom #2: (Rather abruptly) What’s wrong with Danny Gokey? You don’t like his voice? What is it you don’t like?
Me: (At this point, almost accustomed of my surroundings although still being extra cautious of my words.) Well…I don’t think he takes risks. He doesn’t change up the arrangements and I think you need to have originality where that is concerned at this point in uh, the Idol world.
Mentos Mom #2 Well, I think he’s great. (Turns back around, as we prepare for the next contestant…)
My Funny Valentine
I guess he does pretty good. In fact, so far, these people sing better than I kind of thought they would? I think I was hoping for an obvious trainwreck, but I find myself unable to fully concentrate on Giraud’s performance even though I am trying oh-so hard. Because I have decided I will be completely and utterly objective. But I can’t help myself! I’m just sooooo pissed I can’t see the breathtaking Quatto The Mole in all it’s bare forehead glory!
Fake Judges tell him he is brilliant. Fake Randy and Fake Kara continue to crack my shit up, so much so I almost find myself pointing at Fake Randy and yelling YEAHHH DAWGGG.
Next up is La Princesa del Mariachi. And La Princesa is going to be introduced before the break in the pit. And all of the sudden some PA dude in a black t-shirt comes through and La Princesa is standing next to me, smack in the middle of myself and the Mentos Mom Posse.
So we’re waiting for La Princesa to cut her shot and people are all like, ooooh, La Princesa. Well, they were like, oooh, Allison. I was going to call her La Princesa, but that would be weird out of context and in a throng of people with a PA guarding her. They might think I was like a creepy gym teacher or something. Anyway, I actually tapped her on the shoulder and said:
Allison, you’re awesome. Good luck!
Yeah, I sounded like a huge dork but I didn’t have much time. But she looked back and smiled. When we were “doing the shot”, I stared at the camera with a dumb grin on my face because what the frak else was I supposed to do? I don’t do this shit? I was still confused as to how I ended up there! I knew they wouldn’t use it because they want America to think Idol is all about youth, and I had a gaggle of “cougars” next to me, and hell, I look younger than my age but they even bussed in high school kids for the REHEARSAL. Oh, the lies they want the contestants to believe, these kids expect to get off the tour bus and see fresh young things screaming their names. Instead, they get those fresh young things’ moms and grandmas offering up laptops and panties.
Anyway, after we get the shot, La Princesa is whisked away, however, she was all adorable and shit before she left, saying:
I never have any idea what to do for these.
So genuine, so honest. Such a normal, goofy kid.
Someone to Watch Over Me
La Princesa takes the stage after doing a cute little package with Jamie Foxx talking about how she was too young to have a boyfriend. She’s adorable, but hell, she endeared herself to me in one of the early weeks when she said, It’s not like I cut myself, which was so absolutely goofy and unscripted and awesomely off-color.
I am honestly blown away by her performance. This kid is fraking SICK. SICK. Her voice is just absolutely insane, but its not even that, it was really how she brought real feeling to it. I realize that in all actuality, only her and HBD bring such a genuine “I get it” to their performances. The others seem to be just going through the motions. Lambert’s never made quite a connection, because he’s just too slick, or too much of an actor, perhaps. When La Princesa finishes, I cheer loudly and it doesn’t feel forced. I actually smile-smile and cheer. She made me forget about not seeing Quatto The Mole in all its moley gloriousness for awhile. Good girl, La Princesa, good girl.
While we wait for Gokey to come out next, Mentos Mom #2 gets excited. I look at my crew, and we roll our eyes. We roll our eyes once more because Self-Important PA Bitch is still flirting with the high school boys whenever there is a break in the action. Dumb twat, do your job! Debbie The Stage Manager was talking to some blond girl in that little stool section where Seacrest does his pre-song interviews. No idea who she was, but she looked like any wannabe actress/singer with long blond hair found all over L.A. Could have been a daughter or a past contestant from long, long ago. No clue, but I so wanted Goddess Debbie to smack Self-Important PA Bitch around and tell her what’s up.
Gokeyoke comes out on stage and the place goes insane. Insane. I feel a little awkward at this point, being about 10 feet away from a dude whose bullshit “church” I’ve been actively trying to bring down. Actually, no, I don’t. I’m more nervous to see what the Mentos Moms do. Gokeyoke waves to people, as we’ve heard he does. It’s kind of annoying, but again I kind of think he’s just clueless and not a complete douchebag. Of course, I often have this terrible habit of WANTING to find the good in people.
But I decide I’m going to be totally objective for this one, mainly because I’ve been harsher on him than any other contestant. He’s got three comely black backup singers standing at the side of the stage I am near. He beings his song. Mentos Mom #2 leans in so far, which such a urgency. Her Mentos Mom companions are all nudging her and saying, oooh, oooh, kind of like what you do when you’re 15 and a dude you have a crush on walks by you and your friends in the hall. Once again, I have no idea how I got here. I feel lightheaded and I realize my ears are getting progressively more clogged, which I attribute to the Southern California altitude changes, flying across the country, being in a room with a bunch of loud people and loud speakers.
Come Rain Come Shine
Objectively, think objectively. It starts out and I think, he, this guy doesn’t have a bad voice. I’m kind of enjoying this, but I keep staring at the backup singers because they’re just doing the 1960s-backup singer dancing thing. And I keep staring. I keep waiting for them to sing and then all of the sudden.
BOOM! Gokeyoke erupts in his Gokeyoke pulpit schtick and I have no place to run and hide. Mentos Mom #2 is in heaven. I look at my crew. I look at the Mentos Moms. I look at Gokeyoke preaching on stage. I look at the backup singers and their lips have begun to move but I CANNOT HEAR THEM.
And it’s kind of how I feel. I kind of feel as if I’m trying to talk but no words are coming out because once again, I have no idea what is going on and I have no idea how I got here.
Gokeyoke finishes up and I am kind of disappointed, in a way, because I really, really, really wanted to give him a chance, but he ruined it for me when he descended into Gokey-on-a-Sunday-Morning-Service and it started out kind of nice. (I think he toned it down a bit on the show, but…) So yeah, it was his best performance, but I can really only go on the first half of it. And up to this point, he’s definitely got nothing on La Princesa and HBD. Singing really loudly and stomping around up on a stage just doesn’t do anything for me if you don’t mean it.
Fake Randy gives a critique that I, literally, swear to flying spaghetti monster, of which I cannot understand a SINGLE WORD, however, it makes more sense than anything Real Randy says on a weekly basis so I start whooping it up because I love Fake Randy. Fake Kara says something so distinctly Shit For Brains, that I love Fake Kara. These two rule because it is just sooooo ridiculously obvious they probably really hate the people they stand-in for on a weekly basis.
After he’s done, Mentos Mom #2 starts gushing how good he is, and I can’t help it. I have to say something. Why? Because I like discussion. Oh. And yes, I am a sadist.
Me: I thought he sang really loud. I couldn’t hear the backup singers.
Mentos Mom #2: I LOVE HIM (Turns around. This is the last time she will speak to me.)
Mentos Mom #1: She really likes Gokey. I’m excited for Adam, aren’t you?
Me: Are you guys staying for the live show?
Mentos Mom #1: No, we have to go pick our kids up from school. Have to go back to real life.
Me: Sure, sure. Gotcha…I totally love Jamie Foxx as the mentor.
Mentos Mom #1: YOU DO? I just can’t stand him. Not after what he did to Miley.
Mentos Mom #3 (She’s standing in next to #2): Yeah, we didn’t like what he did to poor Miley.
Mentos Mom #1: Don Imus got fired for doing the same thing. Nothing happened to Jamie Foxx. And you just really shouldn’t say those things about a CHILD.
Me: Uh…well, Radiohead, they said something…Tom Yorn, the Radiohead guy, he doesn’t like her…he said something…
Mentos Mom #1 just looks at me blankly. Really now, where am I? How did I get here?
Me: Well, Lambert is next. I really think he’s going to win, I can see it being a finale with him and Kris, I mean, I would prefer that over a Gokey-Lambert one.
Mentos Mom #1: So you think Kris could make the finale?
(I just have to go back to talking about Idol. Or not. I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to do here. I’m utterly fascinated by the Mentos Moms because I’ve seen them on the internet, I’m sure, I’ve just never met any. They’re perfectly nice, really, but I just…okay, well, Mentos Mom #2 might not be as nice as the others, and I never really talked to Mentos Mom #4, but…I’m just in a whole other world right now.)
Mentos Mom #2: (Turns to Mentos Mom #1) It’s going to be Adam and DANNY.
At this point, Lambert is about to come on stage and the band does a quick warm up. I instantly recognize it as the intro to Muse’s Feeling Good. I smirk, well no shit.
(Mentos Mom #3 hasn’t been as chatty, and because of her, I discovered there are still moms out there who love Miley Cyrus. I thought all of them thought she was a whore, quite frankly, as my youngest niece loved Miley in 2007, but by Xmas 2008, thought she was “slutty” as did my sister. I mean, I thought I was educated on the subject, okay?)
Anyway, Mentos Mom #3 turns to me with a very sincere look in her eyes.
Mentos Mom #3: (Glances at Mentos Mom #1 before quietly, almost mouthing, to me) I think he is BORING. I agree with you. Gokey is boring.
And she smiled at me, and I smiled back. She glanced back at Mentos Mom #2 to make sure she didn’t see this exchange as she turned around. I was floored. Wow. This really does exist. And it made me sad. I felt bad this gal couldn’t really say that in front of her friend, in a way, because her friend was SOOOO for this one particular singer.
A singer. On a TV show. Where they sing other people’s songs. And I’m just…how did I get here again?
Upon the introduction package with Foxx’s conclusion, I am PISSED. Because Lambert says he gives the Nina Simone classic a “rock edge”. DUDE. YOU ARE SINGING MUSE. Ugh. Give Muse credit where credit is due. So basically, when Lambert comes down the steps and begins his first note, I am shaking my head in disbelief and all sorts of what-the-frakness.
Lambert does his typical Lambert thing and yes, he is good. The guy is never not good, but I guess the thing about him is, there is nothing he will ever do to “wow” me. He’s better than most anyone they’ve had on the show, his skill level, his technical talent, his vocal range, but I’m not big into the latter. I just like interesting voices. And so much of his performance seems like just that, a performance with over-the-top emoting. I don’t really get anything genuine out of it, except the fact I think, wow, holy shit, the guy can wail. But I just think that he’s almost so good, he’s boring. Does that make sense?
I think I would have enjoyed this performance A LOT more, however, had he just said it was the Muse version. Granted, they edit that shit, but it just bothered me and it was all I could think about throught every high-octave note held for endless amounts of time. This guy is almost technically perfect, but could I listen to an entire album of his? Ever? I have no idea.
I make sure Erika has my card because I know madness is gonna erupt any second since the show is over and frankly, I just want to go retrieve my phone so I can post and call MJ with the spoilers. Because, really, when it comes down to it, I like it when people come to my blog. (Hey, I’ll admit it!) I also like knowing things before everyone else does, so you know, killing two birds with one stone in order to make me feel important. The Idols are all brought back out on stage and introduced by Seacrest. The crowd cheers for all of them, however, for the first time I realize Adam Lambert may not have this all in the bag.
And that worries me.
Danny Gokey had a cheering section twice as loud as Lambert’s, who, obviously garnered a bit more than everyone else. It was incredible, really, in fact, I was plainly shocked. I’ve never seen or heard such a thing on my TV. I wish I could describe the deafening noise, but all I know is that it just shocked me. I had no idea. I had always wondered who the people voting for this guy were and most of all, why they vote for him. But I left the place (of course, I said a quick goodbye to the Mentos Moms, too, I believe) as soon as we could, rushing out to get my phone, but still flabbergasted about those last moments.
Did I understand American Idol any more now than I did before? The phenomenon of it? Why people go crazy over kids they see on TV? Why people become so invested in these performers, singing upon a tiny stage? I have no idea.
Where am I? And how did I get here again? I just want this security person to give me back my phone and camera. And I want to see Lil Kim’s parking spot. And my friend Party Paul, who I am supposed to meet up with in an hour or two. All I can think about right now is getting my phone and getting to my shitty ass rental car.
The sun was bright. My head was spinning. I wanted a cigarette and realized I really needed to eat lunch. I rushed past Lil Kim’s parking spot, getting on my phone, walking as quickly as I could back to reality.
But I ended up in The Grove.