Don’t Bet On It

I have a small confession to make – though it is not one I look forward to making.  The only reason I tell you my deepest darkest secret is because otherwise how could I possibly explain myself for having some of the knowledge and unfortunate experiences that I have?  Well, the time has come to bear my soul and explain to you the trusty reader, that: I watch and pseudo-enjoy American Idol.

“Get the hell out of town, Douglas!” and “No way in hell do you join the decreasing flock of lemming American fleebs who watch and get drawn into the saddest of television!”  Painful as it is to say it, “I DO!”

Luckily my life does not hang by the American Idol thread, but I do let it interrupt my weekly schedule.  I usually start work way before it comes on, and get sucked in as I pass by the screen while the rest of my family is entranced by the demons residing in our Zenith Television.  I go online and find out the results three hours before I should be allowed to, by reading blogs from East Coasters who have already seen the goings on.

So there are no surprises for me when I do decide to tune in – and it irritates the crap out of the wife if she finds out I already know the score on a results night.  So it was no shock that Jordin Sparks won the title of American Idol this season.  I actually didn’t need to check the Easties’ blogs at all to figure that one out – she killed Blake Lewis the night before… SLAUGHTERED.  On this one occasion however, I WAS surprised… surprised by the performance of Ms. Bette Midler.

I think Bette Midler is hilarious, and sure, back in the day when Wind Beneath My Wings first hit the radios I didn’t shy away from it.  And that’s the song she sang that fateful night that music died.  I thought to myself, holy crap, why is she here?  Is she revamping her musical career?  Those thoughts passed through my mind like a Paris Hilton breezing through prison – cause then I paid attention to her singing.  Then I sat patiently waiting for the joke to finish, though there was no punch line.

Yeah she’s funny all right, but I wanted to find the number on screen to call and pledge money to get her to shut up – but there was no such number.  Why, if there is a God in Heaven, is she still allowed to sing this song in public?  I think deaf babies in the NICU, in Pakistan began to cry – with blood trickling from their ears.  I mean come on, at the very end they show Jerry Springer crying and holding his hand (palms pressed) to his lips in what appeared to be either adoration, or utter fear.  You’d of thought she was going to launch herself into the crowd and ride it.

And each time she sung “wind beneath my wings” she flapped her arms in a slo-mo Napoleon Dynamite impression.  Please Bette… you can make a comeback – but stop singing that song.  My only guess is that she was supposed to lip synch it, which is why all the people in the audience are waving their arms.  They are motioning for her to stop with the “singing” and maybe do a ho-down ala Ashlee Simpson.

Sorry Bette.  I still like you more than Streisand, but you are pushing your luck.

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