TV blogging: Except for a few snippets, I skipped this season of American Idol — come to think of it, I skipped all the previous seasons except for the end of last year’s (I’ll admit it: I’m a Carrie Underwood fan.) However, I did tune in the final 30 minutes of last night’s show (while the DVR was churning away on Lost in the background — more on that in a second.) Sorry, but the show was awful — the singing bad and the staging schmaltzy. That shaved-heard rocker guy singing a Burt Bacharach tune has to be the low point in his career. Unfortunately, it’s also the high point, as it was seen by more people than will ever see him do anything else. (The WaPo’s Lisa de Moraes captures the event accurately.)
On a positive note, however: I must say that, to be in her (what?) 80s or 90s, Dionne Warwick still looks great…and so what if she was, as Randy would say, a little pitchy, she’s still got the stuff. At least she sold me a few downloads last night.
But Prince? What was that all about?
The Alabama contingent of rexblog readers are, no doubt, happy the guy who used to sing at the Flora-Bama won. Actually, I have it on good authority that one person who reads this blog has a friend who knows Taylor — or something like that: Auburn frat-party thing. So, does that make the rexblog three-degrees of separation from the Soul Patrol? Taylor’s fine and, for that matter, Katherine McPhee ain’t bad, but they’re no Carrie Underwood.
As for Lost, I thought the writers did a good job weaving disparate threads together and putting some explanatory touches on some things. They also threw in some intriguing curves. Of course, I’m always a impressed when writers can introduce some Russians in an igloo into a show that takes place on a tropical island. When do the polar bears return?
Come to think of it, I have a third-degree of separation from Lost, as well. One of the lead characters (I’ll skip the specifics) graduated from the high school that on Sunday, a young lady who is one of the lead characters in my life, will also graduate.
