Do you hesitate to schedule things on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings? Do you know the meaning of the words “pitchy,” “S’aweright” and “in it to win it.”? Are you likely to withhold information until … after the break? Have you started calling people “dog”? Yeah, you’re an American Idol fan.
It’s okay; it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You and 30 million of your closest friends are enjoying Idol. And now that we’re down to the top two, who can help but watch?
It’s pretty incredible what the Idols have gone though. Mere months ago, they were plucked from obscurity because they had varying degrees of singing talent. They were put through a stressful elimination process each week after singing songs way out of their comfort zones and subjected to harsh criticism not only from the three judges, but from armchair critics across the country. Not an easy task.
Put yourself in the Idols’ place. Can you imagine getting your job performance review from Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell with Ryan Seacrest waiting in the wings to get your reaction to what you heard just seconds before?
What if they evaluated me doing my job, say, making dinner for my family? American Housewife Idol. For my performance, I would make shrimp scampi over farfalle and serve it with steamed asparagus and slices of chiabata. Prep time: 40 minutes. The food hits the table at 7:05 p.m.
Randy, shaking his head: “Linda, how ya doin’, dog? I don’t know. It wasn’t working for me, man. When I heard you chose this meal, I thought this was going to be the bomb. You started out strong, but you got a little pitchy in the middle, added too much lemon juice and -----------------there was just too much going on. It was just aweright for me. Paula, wudjou think?"
Paula, smiling sweetly: “First of all, let me just say that you look beautiful tonight. The hair haphazardly pulled back in a clip, the olive oil on the front of your ribbed tank, the bandage on your finger from the slip of the knife. You truly look like the housewife you’ve become in this competition. And I thought your performance reflected that. Your pacing was a bit off toward the end, but you pulled it together and got it all on the table. I thought it was really good. Is there more wine?”
Simon, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest: “I have no idea what Paula is talking about. That was ab-so-lute-ly horrendous. It was the wrong menu choice for you. It’s like you’re a short order cook in a diner trying to make a seven course meal for the Queen of England. Your timing was totally off. Look, your children are falling asleep at the table. I’m falling asleep! The asparagus were overcooked, the bread has dried out and the shrimp scampi lacked any kind of flavor whatsoever. It was a complete and utter disaster, start to finish.”
Ryan, entering from shadows, shaking his head: “Have you eaten with the Queen lately, Simon? How do you know she’s not sneaking out to a diner for a little snack at 2 a.m. Linda, mixed reviews from the judges. Do you feel you gave this meal everything you could?”
You know, Ryan, some nights I’m just happy to get something somewhat nutritious on the table at all. And thankfully the three judges I have at home are far less critical; this meal routinely gets rave reviews.
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