I Heart American Idol (Not so grudgingly anymore)

I think I became aware of the Idol behemoth a couple of years back. I'd heard about it, of course, (how could you not?), but it really hadn't entered my consciousness until the very end of season 4. The ads began to seep into my head, and that damn, viral jingle found its way to the very tips of my vocal cords in a subconscious kind of way. But I did not tune in to a show until the audition portion of season 5. The rapture of those waved on to Hollywood was really appealing; however, what really got me was the looks on the faces of those who weren't chosen. And I don't mean those overblown losers, the angry ones with red faces and mirror-practiced grimaces and the chair throwing fits. I was taken with the losers who looked into the camera, gave a careful and guarded smile, and walked away. The quiet ones who didn't make a big external show but you knew were hurting inside. The long shot from behind of a young man walking into the arms of his girlfriend just put me away. There was something here, I said to myself. Something, dare I say, culturally meaningful. Maybe I'd jumped the gun judging this show so harshly and without requittal.

Anyway, after the auditions of Season 5, I found myself tuning in on Tuesday nights. At first it was to watch House, one of the best shows on television. Wonderful lead-in, Idol, to a show that deals death and vicodin and passive aggressive doctoring all in one cozy hour. Idol brings you up, plays with your dreams and your aspirations for celebrity, hangs you there to wait until Wednesday for the results show. But Tuesday nights became a kind of repast from the daily chaos of graduate school and, at first, was a real escape. I wasn't invested in the contestants, I told myself at first. But then the season wore on and my thoughts turned increasingly to considerations of the contestants. Katharine McPhee? Beautiful and talented, articulate and wholesome. Taylor Hicks? Also a wonderul soul singer, but a bit of a blowhard. Who did I want to win? Every time Ryan Seacrest paused while giving the results, with his card in hand and the artificial hush spread across the crowd, I was in suspense with everyone else. During the commercial breaks, I fell back into my chair, exhausted with the anxiety of expectation. But after the break, I was always back into the show, attentive to every moment, every flat performance, every intonation of the judges.

And now, with two weeks remaining in Season 6, I've watched nearly every episode, have very definite opinions about each contestant, and find myself a little flush with emotion when my favorites are voted off. Last night, when LaKisha left? Nothing but sadness for her. And part of it, at least for me, is that the Idol producers give the audience just enough personal information about each contestant--not enough to "know" the character of the contestant (because that's what they are, simply characters, enhanced by behind-the-scencsters), but just enough to keep you interested. It's pure and simple condiditioning--I know a few choice details about each contestant that makes me hungry for more. When I don't get any further information, I'm forced to take what I can, and that's the performances. So I'm invested in LaKisha, in her child and her job as a bank teller. But that's as far as the personal connection goes. Given to character development, I begin to love the on stage drama of her weekly decline that fails her earlier promise, not to mention the sub plot of the Simon-LaKisha kiss. Now that we're down to three, who is it? Blake is from the Northwest. I'm from the Northwest. I'm hooked.

What is it about Idol that grabs people? And by people I mean 37 million of us, every Tuesday night. And on television? In the age of the Internet, it's unheard of. Each season tops records set by the last.

To be continued...