Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Girls' Night Idol

I despise the term "girls' night" about as much as I despised the term "group work" in college -- and for many of the same reasons: The conversation always veers off into subjects that are completely irrelevant, everything takes way too long, and one person is always responsible for pulling everything together. Such was my girls' night tonight, and I would complain more, except for the fact that I got free wine out of the deal. So any complaining from here on out officially gets me banned from the girls' night committee.

At some point tonight, one of the girls I was "out" with (and by "out," I mean "drinking wine in a cramped Manhattan apartment in front of a large-screen TV") mentioned the "American Idol" finale. In an attempt to steer the conversation away from future engagement rings and diets, I suggested we turn it on.

Now, I am not an "American Idol" fan...anymore. My admiration of and subsequent horrification at the antics of Clay Gayken (apologies to Kathy Griffin) pretty much ruined "Idol" for me. So as we turned on "AI," I braced myself for what turned out to be -- bad clothes, bad singing, and bad everything to boot -- the Worst. High school. Talent. Show. Ever. Really: A number from Dirty Dancing? The movie wasn't good in '87, let alone the horrible music we've been subjected to year upon year after the film finally left theaters. Must everyone in America listen to its mediocrity all over again? Prince's cameo appearance was, admittedly, worth the price of admission, but maybe not enough to justify my 15-minute descent into the FOX underworld.

When Taylor Hicks (a.k.a. That Gray-Haired Guy) was crowned the Season Five American Idol (the "Season Five" title addition cheapens the entire experience even further, I feel), I sat back with my glass of cabernet and surveyed my girls' night collective: "Is it just me," I asked, the gravity of the situation weighing on my voice, "or does this guy really suck?"

<Four other women sit in silence, ignoring me.>

Oookay, then. I guess crappy Taylor Hicks has the girls' vote, and Katharine McPhee has the overeager stage mom-slash-singing coach vote.

Now, God help us, we won't have to listen to any more Dirty Dancing medleys until our next night at karaoke.


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