Skip to main content

American Idol: I'm So Ashamed

Pam's Newspaper column for Pacific Publishing

I have spent the last five years of my life resisting something that seemed to have gotten most of my friends addicted. I already suffer from a Cheeto addiction and I figure that's all the addictions I can handle right now. People gushed about their need to see this thing. Once wasn't enough. They wanted more. Had I seen it? Wasn't that a wonderful thing? Wasn't that a travesty of justice and goodness and all things honorable? I was not going to fall victim to it. No how, no way. I was better than that, wasn't I? I didn't need to feast on other people's misery. There was nothing enticing me to spend days talking about it, waiting for it, then waiting for the next one. I...would...not...watch...American Idol.

Until this past week.

It got me. I never saw it coming. Oh sure, I thought. I would just peek at it for a minute and then flip over to the Discovery Channel and watch something educational. I was above that cheap and tawdry grab for fame. Simon Cowell held no attraction for me. Avoiding rude people in the real world is an art form for me, I had no desire to inflict one on myself voluntarily.

And yet...I did.

It was like coming across a horrific traffic accident. I was powerless to look away. It's human nature they say, a morbid curiosity if you will, about something bad that is happening to other people right before your very eyes. You're thankful it's not happening to you. When people refuse to shut up about something, when they keep asking you if you've seen it and you keep saying no, they give you that googley-eyed gasp of horror as if you'd just told them you don't believe in baseball, apple pie or Mayor Nickels ability to beat Governor Gregoire in a thumb wrestling contest to decide the fate of the Alaskan Way Viaduct. That's just crazy talk.


It also helped that it was shot here in Seattle since I'm, you know, here.

Those poor, misguided people auditioning before the judges. How could someone not have mentioned to some of them that they had absolutely no talent. Was there not someone honest enough in their families or circle of friends that might have mentioned to them that, um, hey, you're tone deaf dude. And that whole 'sexy' look thang you think you've got going for you? It's not working. No, really. It's not. And please wear a bra next time you're out in public.

I was talking to my hubby about that last night and saying the same thing about family/friends not telling these people that they really had no talent/gift for singing and should not try for the audition. And all because they don't want to hurt their feelings by being honest.

Me: "I love to sing but I know I'm not good enough for something like that"

Him: "Oh you are too! You have a beautiful voice. "

Me: (giving him The Look) "What did I just say?"

And with that comment I suddenly knew why those people had gone on to audition for American Idol. They, and I apparently, have no Simon Cowell in our lives. No one to tell us the bitter, painful truth about things.
Yes, that skirt makes your butt look enormous. No, I don't want your mother to spend the summer with us. That is the ugliest baby I've ever seen. Of course I don't want to see pictures of your vacation to Yellowstone Park, are you kidding me? Your cooking stinks. That nose ring looks ridiculous. Yes, there is an age limit on wearing spandex, and you passed it a looong time ago.
As long as my very own personal Simon Cowell doesn't tell me that Cheetos are fattening, then it's all good. Can anyone tell me when the next episode is on?

Comments

  1. oh god no, not you too!

    okay boil some water, tear up some towels...oh wait, wrong remedy....okay er, eye of newt and monkey's tails...okay, no, wait, i'll get back to you....

    ReplyDelete
  2. Of course, if you are honest, you end up like me - divorced.

    Oh, and Cheetos are very fattening.

    ReplyDelete
  3. come back to us pam....towards the liiiiiiiiiiiight....
    the liiiiiiiiiiiiiiight....
    come back, pam.

    (ghod the horror! the spandex! the failed high notes! the falsetto warbles! she may have been stoned off her tits but paula abdul was right-we DO have the best delusional people!)

    ReplyDelete
  4. btw; my daughter once dated a guy who COODN' REED because he had a hot Mustang. yeah. illiterate. my daughter.
    i was so proud.
    he still revs the engine and honks when he drives by. i wonder if he realizes they're no longer dating?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Anna, there is no cure for me I fear. I'm a goner.

    Dave dear, I'm sorry your honesty got you divorced from your spouse. Perhaps being a Simon Cowell isn't really a good thing in a relationship.

    Yes FN, I've gone over to the dark side. I NEVER watch reality TV. EVER. I despise it. Never have I watched Survivor, Big Brother, Armed and Famous, and whatever other reality based forms of drivel are out there. Until now. I have to watch this to the end.

    I'm...lost.

    11:31 AM

    ReplyDelete
  6. Cheetos are fattening!

    However, I do like to cuddle soft skin, not bones

    ReplyDelete
  7. Are you asking for a cuddle, Whitesnake? Will you bring Cheetos?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Anonymous4:53 PM

    Yes, you are addicted. I'm sorry you have to be assimilated. Resistance is futile. And the next episode is on Tuesday, 8 pm on Fox.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I thought it would be hard for them to top the crack smokers in Minneapolis, but somehow they did. Tune in next week for more auto-non-erotic-asphyxia. And light a candle for those poor souls that really think they were going to be American Idols. LOL

    ReplyDelete
  10. Oh dear. Dear dear dear, Pammy.

    Ashamed?

    You wanna try the British version. Then you'd have something to be really ashamed about...

    ReplyDelete
  11. Mad Munkey, did you notice that a great many of them weren't even from Seattle? I blame Canada. Or Bush.

    Mark sweetie, I've got enough shame. I don't need to add more via the BBC. Although I do hear that it's quite the hit over there across the pond.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Ok I brought ta truck load (of Cheetos)......


    Geez.......what a guy has to do ta get a cuddle.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Anonymous11:30 AM

    Um Pammie ?

    I told you so...

    ~Mur~

    ReplyDelete
  14. Errr. See the post on my blog. Turns out we get to watch American Idol too, if we have the right channels...

    ReplyDelete
  15. Anonymous11:50 AM

    Pam, I get those looks too, the ones of disbelief when I say I've never watched American Idol, because, well, I haven't! I thought about it last week when someone told me how hilarious the try-outs are because of all the fools who don't know they're not talented, but then I totally forgot about it. Sounds like it's way easy to get hooked on though.

    ReplyDelete
  16. I usually only watch the audition parts...then if there's buzz about someone being really good I'll watch another episode or two until they're gone. And since we get all of two stations on the tv at work (Fox or CW) then sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils. And sadly, sometimes the lesser is AI.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

Wheeeeeeee!

Today I was awakened to the not-so-delightful sounds of enormous dump trucks, (you know the ones that are a dump truck and they haul a trailer behind?) dumping truck load after truck load of dirt behind my house. Then the most incredibly noisey and squeaky (do they not grease the tracks on those things??) grader began shoving the dirt and rocks around. I had to fight the urge to throw a can of WD40 over the fence to the driver. It wasn't even eight in the morning. It wasn't even 7:30 yet. So I reluctantly arose from my bed and cleaned up the kitchen. After it was spotless, I went back upstairs to my freeze-zone (the only room in the house with AC) to do some online banking and make calls to check on medical bills, etc. As I was finishing up, in walks my husband! At first I had a moment of Oh-no-he's-lost-his-job terror. Then it passed after he smiled. Seems they ran out of work for the day. Odd, but then that's Boeing. So hubby was roped into going school cloth

Peace Begins with You

In my readings this week, I came across a video of Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin. He gave a talk entitled, "Peace Within." Who doesn't want peace? Who doesn't crave peace within their soul? In their lives? In their hearts and in their homes? How often do we have complete peace? I'd say my answer would have to be that there isn't enough peace in my life, heart or home. It's not like I live in a warzone--I do not. I'm blessed to live in a nation where I have freedoms granted to me by the founding fathers and I do not risk being struck down by bombs or shot by snipers when I venture forth from my home. My neighborhood is relatively safe, so much so that I take solo walks. The peace I speak of is something different. It's the peace that can be with me no matter my circumstances. I crave that peace. Elder Wirthlin says that peace begins in the hearts of righteous individuals. How does it begin? With a relationship with our creator. In ferven

She's Something...

Most of you know that I've got four children. My eldest is seventeen. Oh heavens...how did that happen? Wasn't I just seventeen the other day? I'm sure I was.... Well, she's amazing. I know the majority of mothers have very high compliments to pay their children--and rightly so. However, my baby girl is astounding by anyone's standards. She is going to high school and college at the same time. In high school she's taking mostly AP (Advanced Placement) classes, which also count for college credits. She gets up at five a.m. every morning, goes to Seminary, then goes to school, she works four hours daily as an office manager at Winderemere Real Estate. She speaks Spanish, plays piano, guitar and flute. She goes to the gym daily and it shows. This was her yesterday. This is a picture I just took of her, after getting her braces put on. Now, having said that she is gifted and talented, I should ammend this post to tell you the following. She just got home