Like millions of other people, I watched the finale of this summer's big-hit talent competition \American Idol"" last Wednesday. And I, like many others, was genuinely happy when that spunky kid from Burleson, Tex., won the thing.
She's a good singer, and she seems refreshingly devoid of unearned ego, something Avril Levigne would do well to pick up. But Kelly Clarkson was not the best, not by far.
There were people way back, at the beginning of the competition sometime in June, who blew everyone out of the water and were let go because they weren't cute enough.
This was a competition for a pop star, and to be a pop star, you had to reach at least a minimum level of attractiveness, as decided by the judges and ""America,"" which to Fox Broadcasting means every 18-24 year-old they can get their grubby, Ally McBeal-stained hands on.
Now, let me stop right here. If you are one of those people who asks someone to get you a soda and three people jump or if you're one of those people who's upset that people don't take you seriously because of your smile, you may be quite attractive yourself. To you, unbelievably pretty people of the world, I say, ""take a walk.""
Are we really to the point where we refuse to listen to music sung by ordinary-looking people? Are we honestly at the stage where, when given the chance to vote for people ourselves, to tell the multimedia conglomerates to shove it up their collective ass, we line up neatly like the brainwashed drones we are and vote for the prettiest?
I should've known better than to expect much from the creative geniuses who put Paula Abdul at the helm of a singing competition.
Okay. Back to the show itself. In the first episode, a young woman named Jacquette sang beautifully, from her heart. The kind of singing where the sky opens up and light shines down and you want to love somebody.
After she was done, one of the judges, a particularly snarky media-hound named Simon Cowell, asked her if she thought she would make it to the next round. ""I don't wanna say 'no,' but no,"" she said, through a forced smile. ""Why is that?"" he asked. Her voice got quiet. ""'Cuz I'm a big girl, you know, but it's okay..."" Simon then told Jacquette that she'd actually made it to the next round. The next week, she was promptly voted off, in favor of a former Miss Something-Or-Other who couldn't hold a note steady if it were glued to her perfectly-manicured hands.
See, this is the thing. The network honchos told ""America"" exactly what to want, and ""America"" listened, and responded in kind. This has got to stop.
If you watch the show, and plan on watching it again, keep in mind what I've said. Take a look at who gets booted off, and just try telling yourself that the ""right"" people win. When I watch (and yes, I will hate myself for it), I'll remember what Randy Jackson, a record producer who's worked with Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, and Gladys Knight'and one of the judges, said after Jacquette finished. ""Damn. That girl can sing."" This time around, I'll vote based on actual talent. And I hope you will, too.
