Monsters of Television

Let me introduce myself: I am the only person left in the United States that has not seen an episode of American Idol. I would say it’s just me and the visually-impaired but I’m sure they’ve at least sat in front of the television to listen to people try to impress others by being loud and wavering their voices. Not me. Didn’t care for it. My only contact with American Idol was through the sarcastic gaze of The Soup.

Is that something to be proud of? Am I a better person for not watching American Idol until the 9th season, the first season minus Paula Abdul, the last season for Simon Cowell, and the inaugural season for Ellen DeGeneres to join up in Hollywood? The easy answer is yes. But maybe not.

First of all, people that have sat through eight seasons of this must have nerves of steel. The show is exhausting. In fictional narratives, the scenes of intensity are organized and spread out. Every two minutes on this show there’s some sort of manipulative/heartbreaking/heartwarming/awkward scene that, in non-reality television, would probably not matter all that much. But, because these are real people, the mood intensifies. And it’s hard to watch.

And the singing, oh God, the singing. The bad ones are assumed to be painful but the good ones are just as rough. When people sing in my general area I don’t know where to look. And I get that awkward feeling just watching the auditions, like I need to be doing something else in order to cut the anxiety. My house has never been cleaner.

And it’s so long. Are all these shows going to be two hours? It gets repetitive. Here’s a singer that struggled and but is finally making a dream come true. Here’s a goofball without a shot. Here’s the unassuming, small-voiced wonder kid that can belt it out to the rafters. Uh-oh, Simon’s getting testy. I understand that they want to feature every city that auditioned but — man, it hurts.

And this isn’t even the competition yet. I already don’t really like Kara. Is that bad? Do people like her? I’m not sold on her as a judge. I’m sure she has credentials (though I’m not exactly sure what Simon’s credentials are either) but she drives me up a wall. There was a dude in Boston that got on her nerves and I thought he was the coolest guy there. You know, old what’s his name? With the emo glasses and all the waiting? Nah, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, so I’m going to have to stick around with these judges for the entirety of the season, which, from my outside experience, lasts about forever. Kara annoys me. Randy kind of annoys me. Simon is fine. Whatever. I haven’t liked Victoria Beckham since she went on The Daily Show with Baby Spice and told John Stewart he wasn’t funny (you know, shortly before she turned into an alien) but she’s just a guest judge. What I’m really waiting for is the main event: NPH.

So. Am I a better person for not watching American Idol before? My reason for not watching was because I didn’t cotton to the idea of choosing an Idol and screaming and buying into it. I also, generally, hate the music. But I think what the producers do, especially in the beginning stages, before the actual competition, is focus more on the American part of the title. They attempt a cross-section of middle-America. Is it exploitative? Maybe. They’ll probably say these cats set themselves up. I’m not so sure. But maybe I’ll start to understand why this show garners so many fans for people that really haven’t proven anything except they have decent enough voices to compete on television. Or maybe I’ll never understand. I’ll keep you posted.

UPDATE: Credentials —

• Simon: Music publisher/producer
• Randy: Producer/A&R
• Kara: Songwriter
• Victoria: Posh Spice