Restored Faith in Humanity

May 21, 2008 by Black Belt Mama · 8 Comments
Filed under: American Idol

I haven’t written about it at all this year. But now I’m going to in true Paula style. . .

SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW WHO WINS, DON’T READ THE REST OF THIS POST!!!

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Important Lessons to Learn from American Idol

January 17, 2007 by Black Belt Mama · 3 Comments
Filed under: American Idol

While watching the most horrific auditions I think I’ve ever seen on American Idol, it occurred to me that if these people have confidence, then there is absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t have a healthy dose of confidence myself. Take for example, the fact that I know I can’t sing. Sure, a rendition of a Pebbles song at karaoke can come out o.k. after a few beers or eight, and I’ve also had some success with Macy Gray, but would I ever do that for television? In front of three judges who are not at all afraid to tell you exactly what they think? Absolutely not. Number one lesson?

1. Confidence is knowing what you can do; and it’s also about knowing and accepting your limits. AND, there is definitely a difference between having confidence and having delusions of grandeur.

And then there’s the blonde "bombshell" Darwin, in the gold shirt with the bleached bob, who schooled the nation on the definition of "sexy." Somehow I’m thinking that she and Justin Timberlake are not on the same page here. Apparently a chest controlling apparatus such as a bra isn’t part of her deal either. And what can be learned from Darwin? Well, after giving birth to and nursing two children:

2. The apparent post-nursing shrinkage of my chest is a-o.k. with me (I’ll take what I’ve got over Darwin’s "issues" any day).

Another thing I’ve learned? Things look different once you have school-aged children. In past years, I’ve laughed it up big time. This year? It’s painful to watch some of these auditions but for another reason. . . I actually feel bad for these kids. Some of them are just so pathetic. "My Mommy isn’t here and she doesn’t support me. You’re my only hope. . . " or "I have a chronic illness that means I have to cough at the end of every other line, but PUH-LEASE give me a chance." O.k. that last one I made up, but you get the idea. Lesson #3 is that:

3. It is impossible to watch Idol once you have school-aged children, without feeling horribly sad for these pathetic kids.

And when they’re crying and swearing, it’s not nearly as bad as when the judges are making fun of them and they just go along with it at their own expense. That’s when I just feel like crying out loud for them. These kids are so desperate for their 15 minutes of fame that they’re willing to take it however they can get it. Man, I really hope that my kids never end up being in a situation like that which brings us to Lesson #4:

4. If my kids want to audition for something like this in the future and I know they will only humiliate themselves, I will let them down gently but firmly at home and spare them humiliation and probably years of therapy. In a few years, they’ll thank me for it.

Speaking of which, where are all these kids’ parents? Why aren’t they protecting them from this situation, this humiliation on national television? If I wasn’t relatively sure my girls would make it, they wouldn’t be there; and I sure as hell wouldn’t be standing there beside my girls wearing gawdy red lipstick singing along the words to "Don’t Cha" (Sorry, I just can’t get over Darwin and company). In the shower? A Pussycat Girls rendition? Sure, but on national television? Not a chance.

Here’s another lesson to be learned.

5. Unless you’re already a big time celebrity (think Angelina Jolie) and being interviewed by Barbara Walters, don’t spill your tears along with your life story.

Seriously, these shows are not going to empathize with you! They’re going to take every word you say and make you look like a complete fool, I mean, if you haven’t already done that yourself, which you probably have so, what was my point? Oh yeah, zip your lips and leave your costumes and any clothing resembling costumes at home.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go have a good cry for all of their poor tortured souls.