isn't she lovely...

The D.C. auditions...

What can one say about the audition episodes?  People either love them or hate them.  I am one of the latter.  I just have a sick feeling in my stomach watching delusional people being egged on to make fools of themselves for the sake of entertainment.  After all, everyone sings like Celine Dion -- to their own ears.

I do enjoy the occasional kick-butt performance, even though a capella it's hard to really distinguish sometimes, but the first few American Idol episodes are not devoted to the ones who can.  They're centered around those who cannot.  And that is precisely why I prefer to fast foward through the audition footage and go right to the competition.

But, alas, it's what makes this show American Idol.

I have a hard time keeping track of names in the early episodes, but I tried to do my best last night.  My observations:

My favorite of the evening was Regina Brooks, who felt so blessed that AI had raised its age limit to 28 just in time for her to get her shot.  She's a mom with a husband who's not real pleased about her pursuing her Hollywood dream, and is forced to choose between selling her karaoke machine and her wedding band to raise the funds to make it to D.C. for the tryout.

So, because she can't imagine a life without music, she hocks the ring.  Questionable judgement, but maybe that's why hubby isn't all that enthused about her leaving him and the adorable baby behind.  She sang well, but I am prejudiced when it comes to Johnny Mathis songs, especially Misty.  And, for whatever reason, Simon summons her husband, who seems to change his tune about supporting the Mrs.  (And people accuse women of forever changing their minds.  Whatever.) 

Regina is off to Hollywood, carrying with her an interesting backdrop of a story.  (Flashback of single-mom Fantasia here.)

Isn't sheprecious...

I almost cried myself when Jesse Cazella forgot the lyrics to You [Raise] Me Up.  [see comments]  I have a sneaky suspicion I would have cried too had he remembered them, but watching him crumble as all of his hopes came crashing down around him was a little tough to watch.  Every now and then Paula serves a purpose.

Isn't he broken...

And I did snicker at Toni Braxton's "cousin" lecturing me ad nauseum about his sexiness and verbally assaulting all of the judges.  Delusional people I feel for; arrogant idiots I laugh at.  (And did anyone ask proof of familial relationships?  Hell, I could call myself Jennifer Banks, sister to Tyra, but that won't get me in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition.)

Isn't he lying...

Everyone is talking about Mary Roach, who would have changed her name to some French number with more star quality had she made it to Hollywood (Lord, Leah LaBelle, see what you started...) and her internal back-up singers.  Yep.  She was a scary one.  How dare anyone put her and sweet, but not insane, William Hung, in the same sentence?  Cut that out NOW, the voices tell me to say.  NOW.

Isn't she scary...

Then there was Constantine Maroulis, the screaming lead singer of a New York band who delivered a suprisingly good performance in the audition and got his yellow paper.  He could bring a different quality to the show, but it could be in the same vein as Josh Gracin's country slant or John Stevens' crooner mode.  But I don't care, because he stabbed his bandmates in the collective back by auditioning in secret and abandoning them on national television.

Isn't he jerky...

I want never ever to hear God Bless America, America the Beautiful, Tomorrow or Isn't She Lovely? ever ever again.  Thank you.

And I really enjoyed the young woman at the end of the program, the one following God's instruction.  God may have told her to sing, but too bad he didn't give her the chops to do so.  And I really get a kick out of the ones who, when ability fails (or was never there to fail in the first place) use the God card in the hope that invoking God's instruction will pressure and/or guilt the judges into handing over an invitation.  And then, when that fails, God's little singer proceeds to dissolve into a profanity-laden diatribe.  Yep.  I'm sure God's proud.

Isn't she vulgar...

And so it goes.  Tune in tonight for more lunacy.