January 19, 2006

American Idolatry

Let's admit it - we all want to be the "next American Idol." If you haven't watched the show, you may be saying yeah right, but I promise you, watch the show once and you'll change your tune. I started watching last season and was captivated by the grizzly cross section of America that turned out for open auditions. They show only the very best and the very worst on tv, but no matter what the talent of the person auditioning, each one fervently believes that their Siren song will amaze and entrance the judges. It's both sweet and shocking how blind most are to their actual abilities.

Here is what my American Idol audition would go like.

[Hollywood confidently enters the room and faces the three judges]
Me: Hello. Prepare to be dazzled.
Simon: Whatever. What are you singing for us?
Me: Mmm-Bop
Paula: Wonderful! That's my favorite song!
[Simon and Randy make wretching faces behind her back.

I then sing that stirring little ditty with all the passion of my soul. I don't look at the judges faces while I sing, rather, I focus on feeling the mmm-bop that lies at the very core of my being and translating it into beautiful song.

End song...silence in the judges room]

Me: Are you convinced?
[Simon sits, silently weeping. Paula has that bewildered Frodo look on her face. Randy is eating a Snikers]
Simon: I have never felt so moved by a song in all my life. You are an inspiration to 26 year old, greasy haired, stay at home moms everywhere! Not only do I think you're Hollywood material, but I insist you stay at my mansion while you're there!
Me: Simon Cowell, you're a sweetie.
Paula: I wasn't sure at first, but when you got to the "bop" part of the song, my soul lit with fire, my skin tingled and my heart went wild. Hollywood, you are the best we've gotten so far. You are going to Hollywood and from what I've seen so far of the competition, nobody can touch you! Randy, what do you think?
Randy: Hmm? [finishing off his Snickers and turning to look at me for the first time] Oh, I don't think so. She's too fat.

But luckily for me, 2 out of 3 votes is all you need. Some people just don' t appreciate a good mmm-bop. But America will love me. I'll get all kinds of endorsements, I'll abandon my husband and baby for all the glitzy record labels that will use my up and leave me dry when I hit 30. I can't wait!

As each auditioner on the show gets the cold shoulder from the judges, it seems to only reinforce their belief that they are misunderstood, underappreciated, and destined for greatness. After all, there is nothing Americans idolize more than themselves. Thank you, American Idol for giving me a false hope of talent, encouragement to sing in the shower, and the clarity of mind to realize that I'm nobody without a record contract. Tra la la!!

3 comments:

Ben Everton said...

Mmmmm---bop. The thing is, you'll never be as strikingly beautiful as the girls of Hanson. What? They're boys? Sick!

I have never watched American Idol, I have resolved to someday just so I can see what the big fuss is about.

I can't think of how to tie this into my singleness without it being sick.

Molly said...

I have no problem admitting that being the next american idol would be a dream come. I liked reading your audition transcript. I knew they'd send you to Hwood. Voice like an angel.

verukah the first said...

Yes, well I really DID have an experience like that when I auditioned for the Dallas Symphony Chorus. No one in Dallas could sing "Per la Gloria del Adorarvi" like I did. And how about that second number, "Sebben Crudele?" All in lovely, lilting Italian! But they nailed me with a sight reading surprise number, "Ave Maria," to a totally new tune, and for the finishg insult, it was in RUSSIAN. "And do you wish me to sing in Russian?" I sweetly inquired, "No, just make sounds that follow the notes," replied the hardened and jaded judge. I was dead. DEAD. Sounded like an alley cat tied to a firecracker. Oh well. Never were the words "Thank you, Barbara" spoken so coldly, so dismissively. I never had the chance to tell them that I can really SPEAK Italian, and French, and Spanish, and that many sopranos in the church choir like to stand next to me during our performances ..I slunk out of there savoring my first real rejection in life. I couldn't wait home to tell the kids! "I'm a loser! I feel your pain!"

Those people at the DSC don't know what they're missing. Hmmmph!