It seems like just yesterday that we crowned ... someone? ... the new
American Idol winner. (In my defense, it's 1:30 am, but I honestly had to Google it to remember that it was Jordan Sparks ... and I was live-blogging every episode. Each season of that show just blurs with the last.) But it's time to start up the insanity again, and it's kicking off this year in Dallas, Texas.
It's the standard story: lines stretched forever, it was way fucking hot, contestants only get 15 seconds to sing, Ryan Seacrest is getting head from androgynous characters in a bathroom stall between takes, etc. Maybe this is why nothing exceptional ever happens to me, but I just don't understand why anyone would want to do that, even if they are a good singer. Like, there's a tiny voice in my head that would say, like, "Hey, Beet, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to become a superstar! Sure, the odds are slim, but you've gotta go for it! You'll only achieve success if you pursue your dreams at all costs!" And then a huge, bellowing voice in my head responds, "It's hot," and then I'd stay in and watch
Gilmore Girls reruns instead and hope someone discovers me in a mall.
In coming weeks, auditions will be held in Omaha, Atlanta, Charleston, Miami and Philadelphia. Can we please talk about these Omaha auditions? If Adam Duritz hadn't thought to write a whole song about it, I'd never have known Omaha existed. (I just have to note here that my friend Palimo -- a musical prodigy -- once devoted his considerable talent to making up new words to "Omaha," and it started like this: "Boned your ma, somewhere in a Little America," and then it went on but I forget how but Palimo, if you ever read this blog, kindly leave them in the comments). Anyway, Omaha's in the middle of fucking nowhere, a few hours out of Des Moines and about a day's drive from Chicago, but I truly cannot wait to see the midwestern farm stories they manage to pull out of the Omaha auditions. />It seems like just yesterday that we crowned ... someone? ... the new American Idol winner. (In my defense, it's 1:30 am, but I honestly had to Google it to remember that it was Jordan Sparks ... and I was live-blogging every episode. Each season of that show just blurs with the last.) But it's time to start up the insanity again, and it's kicking off this year in Dallas, Texas. It's the standard story: lines stretched forever, it was way fucking hot, contestants only get 15 seconds to sing, Ryan Sea...