At last, the night we’ve all suffered for. I’ll be live blogging this as long as I can, so keep refreshing your screen to see the latest snark.
So… who was that blond woman at the beginning of the show? Who??? Oh, her… last year’s Katharine McPhee.
Randy’s montage was hilarious. “Yo” and “We’ve got a hot one here!” Don’t know why I hadn’t turned them into macros earlier.
Paula’s montage… a series of weepy, nose-dripping temper tantrums. However, I think I’ve finally figured out Paula’s judging criteria: she really does believe that “If you wish upon a star/ makes no matter who you are…” even if you’re a washed up, lude-swilling has-been.
Simon’s montage… Well, hell, I’d give him a 10, too. Then again, I have a bit of a soft spot for a guy who calls it like it is. Wonder why.
(Break time for me. Back in a few.)
7:08 – Paris is back! Well, maybe just for tonight, but at least the Blogger Formerly Known As ZombyBoy ought to be happy. And with Al Jareau? How awesome! Unfortunately, as spot on as Paris’ vocals are, I’m again reminded of why I lost interest: it just does not seem right for a girl not even old enough to vote to be singing Big Great Old Songs.
07:15 – Chris is back, too. With the band “Live.” Although, with two goodlooking bald guys on the screen it’s hard to tell who’s who. Not that it matters — they both are platinum in my book. (And, yes, I do still feel bitter that Chris is gone, why do you ask?)
07:17 – Aw, and there’s Kelly… and her hair. Simple answer to everyone wondering why she’s sporting the Soccer Mom look now: American Idol’s stylists suck! Her hair got fried halfway through her run on AI. However, I honestly can’t explain the glasses. Nor can I explain why a girl who probably ate chitlins without blinking would cringe over snails.
07:21 – Meatloaf and McPhee. Oh. The. Jokes. Let me just say that Meatloaf is looking good, despite his pitch problems. Ditto for Kat.
07:28 – Ryan’s trying to earn his paycheck now. Cue the “heavy thoughts” music. Cue the deep voice. Cue the pathetic SNL-type sketch. Cue the martini shaker. It’s time for “The Golden Idol” awards… which are, apparently, subtitled “Share Our Pain” because they’re bringing back the best of the worst (or worst of the best?) from the auditions. Yep, even the orange-glo girl who snorts when she laughs. I thought I’d just hallucinated all those people but, evidently, I was wrong. So wrong.
And… Oh. GOD! They brought back “Crazy Dave” Hoover. Bare feet and all. Of course this only makes me wonder: has AI become more about the freak show aspect than about really finding the nation’s best undiscovered singer? Only time (and a Katharine McPhee victory) can confirm my suspicions.
07:39 – We’re back, and we’re with Puck and Pickler. (Wolfgang Puck, that is.) Now, I’d love to be able to poke fun at Kelly’s fear over lobster but… well, look… I love the things, but I don’t want to see them crawlling on my table, either.
07:41 – Back with the AI guys, including Ace, Bucky and Chicken Little this time. Yep, it’s the Scrotal Singalong. Hey, who am I to complain… Ace is back on my screen! So is Elliot! And then there was Bucky. Well, that’s a nice way to cool a girl down. And if that didn’t do it, then hearing the guys sing that Fleetwood Mac tune which formerly served as the Clinton’s theme song did it. Yep, put an image of Hillary into my head and my heart rate’s back to normal.
07:52 — Elliot’s on with one of my very favorite U2 songs. Can it be true? Is Bono going to show up? No, it’s Mary J. Blige… almost as good. Oh, my ears are in heaven. Really. I. Love. Mary J Blige.
08:00 — Some blond country singer’s on my screen. Oh yeah, that’s right, it’s her. (And a brunette behind her who’s doing most of the on-key singing.) How ironic is it that her song is something about Don’t Forget to Remember Me? Now, who is she? Nevermind. Don’t care. I needed to pee anyway. Back in a few.
08:05 — After a fun little moment with Rhonetta (which would be funny if there weren’t so many others who could more rightfully use that phrase), we’re back with Taylor. And Toni Braxton. Looking as good as any woman could ever hope to look. Singing In The Ghetto. Now, is it just me or does anyone else remember, say, 10 (?) years back when a Southern White Boy and a Female of Color singing that song together would’ve been, well, scandalous? My, how times have changed.
08:11 — Clearly, wishing upon a star, crossing your fingers and blowing dandelions don’t grant wishes because Katharine McPhee is back on my screen and singing. Off key. Again. Thank goodness she’s got some more female talent to, well, show her what talent is. For some reason they’re all singing too low and out of their strong range. However, only one of them might be a winner tonight and the fact that Kat is there with the rest of the women outshining her ought to point out, once again, how wrong it is that she’s still there. Hm. Lisa’s sounding better than I remember, and I wish Mandisa got more air time. For all of us chubby girls out there — with killer voices — I wish she’d got more play.
08:19 — My personal coolest moment in TV History: When geeky whats-his-name got to sing with his idol, Clay. I don’t care what you think about him, or about Clay. It’s amazing when a person’s dreams come true. It’s amazing.
08:45 — The “Brokenote Boys” are back and, although I love seeing them, I can’t help but feel like Garret’s fullest moment in life is already behind him. That he’s going to be that mostly drunk (but is he really) guy at the local dive bar who’ll be in his late 40’s trying to pick up on 20-something girls based on the one 15-second span in time when everyone knew him as the man he hoped he’d one day be.
08:49 — So, we’re down to The Moment. AND PRINCE! Ok, look, I adore Prince. For reasons that are none of your business. However, having said that… well, fuck this live blogging. I’m watching PRINCE! LIVE!
08:58:31 — By some quirk of fate, I (and the three martinis I’ve had since the Pre-Show started) decided to hit “pause” right at the very second after Ryan announced the results. My TV is paused on the winner’s face. I have seen, well and truly, what it looks like to have every dream you’ve ever dreamed come true, to have every wish granted, to have Christmas and birthdays and daydreams wrapped up all in one. And, irrespective of who actually won, that is why I watch American Idol: to see the true face of unmitigated joy.
And I am so glad to see it on TAYLOR.
Soul Patrol, baybee.