May 14, 2007
American Idol: My Fantasy Version
much as I didn’t want to, I got sucked in like a dust bunny into our new
high-power, made-to-stop-allergies vacuum cleaner.
addicted to “American Idol”. To Simon and Seacrest flirting. (Sorry, but
that’s what it seems like to me.) To watching, up until last week, the
gal from my home state, Lakisha, who can belt ‘em out with the best of
the Motowners. Even to counting how many times Randy says “dawg” in one
Granted, I haven’t yet phoned in to place a vote. I drew the line at
voting for anything other than government officials ever since high
like it or not, and I really don’t, I am sucked in. I feel like a
teenager again. I drive around in my car actually placing bets in my
mind about who’s going to get voted off. And of course, like any good
teenager, I find myself fantasizing about actually being on the show.
That, in and of itself, is hilarious. First, they’ve never had a
pregnant contestant whose about to get wider than she is tall. Second,
while Taylor Hicks may have looked too old to be on the show, I really
am too old to be on the show. Finally, there is the fact that
when I sing, it literally scares the mice out of our basement faster
than anything containing Decon ever could. For that matter, given how
loud I sing while dusting and sweeping, there may not be any mice left
in my whole neighborhood.
fact, when I was in Sunday School in the third grade, only one of 10 of
us did not make the kids’ choir. I was that one. Embarrassing? Oh yes!
Telling? Definitely. But it got me used to my fate as the worst singer
in my grade.
high school, I actually won a small part in “Bye Bye Birdie” based on my
dancing skills, but was pulled aside after rehearsal one night and asked
to mouth the words to the songs being sung while I was on stage.
Clearly, not enough people had tried out for that musical.
Needless to say, I gave up on any hope of a singing career well over 20
years ago. And then came “American Idol”. It took me until this season
to really embrace – no, draw out completely – my Idol fantasy. And it
all happened when Jon Bon Jovi hosted and coached the contestants in
Anyone who knows me knows my affinity for Jon. That sealed the deal, and
I began fantasizing about meeting other stars in my stint on the show.
And while I’m more of a William Hung than a Melinda Doolittle, it’s
America. We’re all entitled to dream!
fantasy season of “American Idol” starts like this. I’ve made it past
the tryouts and onto the show. The first week is Eagles Week. Oh yeah. I
told you I was too old to be on the show! Glenn Frey and Don Henley
(since I just threw away my poster of them a few years ago) are my
coaches. And when I get on stage, I belt out the best breakup song ever
written – the Eagles’ “Wasted Time”. The audience is, of course, moved
to tears. And this time, not because they can’t get to the nearest exit
second week? Hosted by none other than Jimmy Buffet and the Coral
Reefers. I’ve seen Jimmy on stage 10 times, but never closer than a few
hundred feet away. But in my “American Idol” fantasy, he of course
recognizes me. I know that I have to show the audience my funny girl
side after last week’s emotionally moving performance, so I belt out his
Hokey Pokey song and earn Simon’s unending approval.
only gets better from there when the Go-Gos and the cast from “Free to
Be You and Me” become coaches. In my next to last week on the show, Trey
Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of “South Park”, teach all of us how
to jam with songs like “Ben Affleck Sucks” from Team America, and
“Blame Canada” and “What Would Brian Boitano Do?” from the South Park
side note, during that week, Matt Stone also decides he loves me and
hires me to help write their next movie.
crowning week – and of course, my last on the show? Kenny Rogers! He and
I have a long history. When I was in kindergarten, we had to bring our
favorite record to class. I, of course, brought in my 45 of “The
Gambler”. My teacher nearly had heart failure as I shared with the rest
of the five-year-olds what poker and whiskey were before she could stop
parents were called. My fate sealed as class troublemaker. I don’t think
I saw the sun at recess time the rest of the school year. But Kenny was
meeting Kenny during my last week of “American Idol” would be worth it,
too. I’d get booted off the show that week, because I can’t quite sing
“Islands in the Stream” like he and Dolly could. But I’d have had the
“American Idol” season of a lifetime.
now, I must get back to my real life. After all, it’s summer, and the
mice need to be frightened away again.
© 2007 North Star Writers
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