Better Late Than...Aww Fuck It. AI Re-caps 1/30-31/07

This week’s edition of American Idol takes us to Birmingham, Alabama, home to past Idol famers Ruben Studdard, Bo Bice and Taylor Hicks, which is somewhat fitting considering my re-cap is so late this week, it’s about as relevant as their careers. But, I figure better late than never, even though with the poor quality of this season’s episodes thus far, I will probably be eating those words in a few paragraphs. I will be combining both of last week’s episodes into one medium sized re-cap. My apologies for being so behind, but I can’t exactly say I was motivated to rush to the computer after four less than stellar episodes and re-caps. If I come back for a third season of this, I’m telling everyone right now, Flock is flying south for the winter until Hollywood week.
I’m paused on a particularly fugly girl in hair rollers and sporting a wall-eye. Sounds like a good place to begin Birmingham.

I’ve actually waited to watch these and I haven’t read or seen anything about the episodes so what’s stale to you is going to be fresh to me. Up first is Erica Skye, a native Alabamian. She attends Auburn University on their newly initiated “tramp” scholarship. Erica has long curly dyed blonde hair, wears a late 70s Chrissie Snow halter top and sports a set of false eyelashes that would turn any droog green with envy. Erica is studying Biological Sciences and my guess is she uses biology to help her skate through the program. She wants to do something in the dental field if her singing career doesn’t work out. Do you need to go to college for that? I thought you only had to go someplace like Apex Tech or Vryman or one of those places you see advertised during the day while watching “I Love Lucy” reruns. Erica will be singing “Unchained Melody,” (you know, by LeAnn Rimes!). No word yet if she’s going to be accompanying herself by scraping her eyelashes along a washtub board.

Okay, yes, Erica is bad. Mostly she’s flat (or her notes are) but the judges are mugging worse than Jim Carrey on the Oscars, pulling faces worthy of the chick who did The Cowardly Lion schtick a couple weeks back. There’s so much ham going on at the judges table, the whole room ought to be declared Treyf. Once Erica finishes, Simon lights into her, but she insists she was just nervous and tries launching into a Dixie Chicks song amid Simon’s vigorous protests. I think it’s all much ado about stuffing. The judges have come loaded for bear and are playing straight to the camera. I could understand where Erica might think she had a better voice than she does and I could also see where relatives and friends who no little to nothing about music would encourage her without being completely off their rockers. I have a good friend who honestly can’t hear when someone is flat or even wildly off key. He just doesn’t have the ear for it. Erica should not be sent through, but neither should she be treated like the chick who could only sing “Women not girls rule my world,” over and over.

Erica will not take no for an answer and Paula walks out as she sings her second song, which is a little of the pot calling the kettle off-key, if you ask me. She actually sounds a tiny bit better on the second song. They toss her out and she says afterwards that she wishes they had been a little nicer. I concur. Simon must not be in the mood for breasts today.

Katie Bernard is up next. She’s from Orlando and has a really irritating speaking voice. Basically, she’s gonna have to sing like an angel in order to quell my desire to smash her in the face already. Oh my god, speaking of wanting to smash someone in the face, did anyone see Katharine McPhee’s appearance on “Ugly Betty,” this past week? Painful. She couldn’t even play herself convincingly. And she wants to have an acting career?? The only performance less believable was poor America Ferrera who had to pretend that Betty had the “McPheever.” It’s a good thing the Hollywood Foreign press didn’t see that clip or Felicity Huffman would have wound up with the Golden Globe. Howard Stern was playing some of McPhee’s tracks off her new CD this week and cracking on them. I have to say, for someone who’s supposed to have this big, powerful voice, they hid it under all of this production fluff and crap. They even employ a vocoder. I never thought McPhee had a bad voice, she just oversang everything and had a LOT of bad habits, but she has natural abilities that aren’t being taken advantage of. My prediction is it will be shipped gold and returned platinum and by Flag Day, you’ll be able to pick it up in the cut out bin next to Taylor Hicks’ CD.

Okay, back to Katie Bernard. Holy shit, she sounds like Lily Tomlin doing Edith Ann. All this bitch needs is a gigantic rocking chair. Katie swears to the judges that her singing voice is completely different than her speaking voice. She’s right. When she speaks, she doesn’t sound like she has Tourette’s Syndrome. Katie’s vocalizing is akin to riding The Tower of Terror. It’s up, it drops, it’s upnoitdrops… and so on. Her tone is decent when she manages to hold it for more than one note. Randy wants to put her through, Simon unequivocally says no and Paula is on the fence, leaning toward no. Katie begs Paula to send her to Hollywood, at one point sounding like the baby vulture from the old Bugs Bunny cartoon. I swear she actually says “Uhhhhnopenopenopenopenope.” Katie brings in her new husband, a lumpen, popped collar Izod wearing slab of back fat. Katie begs and pleads and you can just see it on her husband’s face- Please take her to Hollywood so I can have a few days peace! She NEVER shuts up. Paula, if only to spite Simon, sends her through to Hollywood. I fucking hate when she does that.

Tatiana McConnico is wearing bedroom slippers to her audition. She’s 17 and this is the biggest thing she’s done in her life. Let’s hope she’s not conveniently leaving out that baby she had in the 8th grade. Tatiana has a really good, really solid voice, though like McPhee last year, has no idea how to act a song, singing an Aretha dirge as though she were selling spark plugs on an infomercial. Paula is very twitchy during the performance and she looks like she’s going through the DTs. McConnico goes through.

Jesus Christ, Ryan Seacrest is just a tiny, tiny man.

Diana Walker is from Georgia and works in child care. My guess is she incubates them because she’s the size of an industrial oven. Diana sings some Whitney and her voice is the only flat thing about her. Diana gets a quick hook and the expression on Simon’s face when he gets a gander at the size of her ass on the way out is priceless.

Bernard Williams is next. He’s a very cute local boy with a good voice. He’s singing “Rock With You,” by Michael Jackson. Usually when people announce they’re singing Michael, it’s a primer for a really joke bad audition. But Bernard does a very good job. I like him, I like his voice, his personality and his looks. He goes through, even though Paula, who definitely got a shot of morphine during the last break, claims he was completely off-key through the whole song? This from the woman who put Katie Bernard through. This guy was one of the best men we’ve seen so far this season. Seriously, let’s drop the Isaiah Washington flap; I’m all for starting a petition to get this broad fired once and for all.

Time for our first staged joke audition of the day. Margaret Fowler is dressed in a huge canary yellow feather dress and sports a gap between her teeth big enough to hide Anne Frank and her entire family, including the VanDaans. Because we’re wasting time with Margaret, someone more deserving doesn’t get to be seen by the judges. Margaret claims to be 26, though Seacrest calls her on it. When is someone gonna call him on claiming to only be 32? Margaret has a habit of revealing her tremendous fat pouch stomach and unless a kangaroo pops out of it, there’s no point in continuing with her. I think Randy said it best when he asked, “What is going on with this show?” P.S., Margaret owns up to being 50.

Jamie Lynn Accent-so-thick-I-couldn’t-understand-her-last-name is from North Carolina. She wears a t-shirt that reads “Blue Eyed Bombshell.” It ought to just say “Stick it in.” Jamie lives with her grandma and her daddy and daddy is paralyzed. Oh, this one studied Kellie Pickler’s game plan very carefully. This is like a clone made from a clone made from a clone. Kellie studied Carrie, Jamie studied Kellie. Will next year’s model just be a blob of southern fried protoplasm that they harvest for stem cells and then give a tit each to Simon and Randy?

Simon asks Jamie to tell him something interesting about her and she says, well-rehearsed, “My daddy’s paralyzed.” Hey, my father was a drunk, but it certainly wasn’t anything that made me interesting. Jesus, honey, you can deviate from the script without completely blowing your sob story. It gets worse. Daddy “shot hisself.” Actually, he shot his cheating wife, Jamie Lynn’s step-momma (and apparent role model) then shot hisself. But according to Jamie Lynn, “It’s okay.” So can you just picture Jamie Lynn circa early 2006, sitting around the house watching Kellie Pickler on the teevee, thinking to herself, “Hey, my father is a way bigger scumbag than this gal’s. If she can get famous on no talent, a Chickasaw accent and a sob story, then Hollywood, here I come!” Oh yeah, her voice. Passable, but much more of-key than Bernard Williams was accused of being, so of course, Paula loves her. She goes through, earning the hatred of millions of viewers and staving off the stripper pole for at least another six months. P.S., she’s either got on a thong or is going commando, because there’s a huge rip in the hip of her jeans and no VPL and the minute she gets her golden ticket, she completely forgets to be sad about her paralyzed daddy. Seacrest pretends to lust after her.

Chris Sligh packed his ego in his triple chin. Let’s hope he has the chops to back it up, cause he certainly ain’t got the looks. After making an enjoyably snarky Hasselhoff joke, Chris has a slight lisp when he sings and isn’t half as good as Paula is acting like he is, but he has a pleasant tone, even if he’s too breathy. I’m gonna give him the benefit of the doubt, because he sounded nervous, but that ego better get in check real soon if he hopes to make it very far.

Second day in Birmingham and Paula Abdul is strangely absent, hopefully getting a much needed ear candeling. First up:

Victoria Watson has hair long enough to make Crystal Gayle look like Persis Khambatta. She’s 18 and her mane is six feet long. Her mother, decidedly older, has been growing her own hair since she was 29. Let’s hope she’s had the good sense to at least get a wax now and then. Ryan greets Victoria and asks her, “What brings you hair?” I already love Victoria because she totally ignores the lame joke and makes Seacrest look even more the anus. Then he makes it again and she has to pretend to think it’s funny just so he won’t try it a third time. Randy and Simon can’t quite believe Victoria’s hair so they bring in her mother. And thus, another freak show is on the table. Victoria doesn’t have a bad voice, but it’s more suited to a choir than as a solo singer. Of course, having a sparrow land on her head and start building a nest in the middle of her performance certainly didn’t help. Next.

Nichole Glatzman’s mother has told her daughter that she has no talent. But that was before the pre-school talent show. Now her mother is a convert and has started “Team Nichole,” a support group to further the career of her daughter. Nichole looks like a young Eva Longoria and has an amazingly rich voice for a sixteen year old but is surprisingly shot down by both Randy and Simon. I cannot believe they wouldn’t put her through after some of the disasters that are going to Hollywood. The worst part is that now Nichole’s mother will probably start in again telling her daughter that she has no talent.

Oh god, another joke to end the episode. Brandy Patterson claims she has an “Excrodiary voice.” Let’s get it over with. Brandy sings “Like a Virgin.” Thank you for wasting my time, though this I the first time I’ve ever heard anyone blame the floor for a bad audition.

Our next episode takes us to Los Angeles, as we’re reminded of last year’s hometown champion, Katharine McPhee and her caterwauling version of SOTR. However, all is not lost. The lovely and talented Olivia Newton-John is guest judging. I’m a HUGE ONJ fan, so perhaps this episode will be less insufferable than all the rest.

Oh great, our first audition of the day is a joke. Martik Manoukian, or “Eccentric,” as he likes to call himself, says he will be a singer, a model, an actor, an author, rapper, dancer, choeographer and composer… maybe he’d like to open a hair weave shop while he’s at it or at least put BooBerry back on the shelves. Eccentric prowls the floors, doing a panther impersonation no one really asked for, then enters the audition room, throws a few props around the room, strips to the waist, prowls the floor and growls before Simon tells him to get the hell on with it. Martik sings (?) an original composition holding a prop microphone that falls out of his pants. Simon is aghast and even Eccentric himself is giggling. Way to start the show off, folks. I’m going to be nice and not even mention the poor boy’s goatee, which was half shaved of and filled in with a red sharpie.

And that brings us to another joke. Sholandric Stallworth loves love songs and the lovers who sing them, especially…. Julio Iglesias??? Ok, Sholandric? What consumer product did his momma crib THAT name from? Waste of time.

Grace Pugal actually has a lovely voice and would have immediately been put through, except for the fact that she’s dressed like a rodeo clown and straddling an inflatable bull. No, I’m not shitting you. Why would someone do this, especially with a decent voice? Why must I keep asking the same questions every week?

Marianna Riccio has a showbiz background and from the look of it, a history with Bell’s Palsy. Marianna’s mother was a Golddigger from the old Dean Martin Show. That’s some pedigree. It’s like saying I’m a shoo-in to win a Best Actor Oscar because my grandmother was the “Where’s The Beef” lady. Marianna gives a wretched audition and sings a badly off-key Clash song, the right side of her mouth completely paralyzed. Simon excoriates her and she drop to her knees. Well, perhaps mom can teach Marianna to be a real golddigger and land a rich husband, because the chick sure isn’t gonna make her own money by singing. Marianna begs some more and makes a complete anus out of herself, then leaves and drags the professional Golddigger back into the audition room for another bout of self-flaggelation. Mercifully, Mom is able to get her daughter out of the room before she chains herself to a beam.

Lots of no’s follow. No, a LOT of no’s. And some pretty desperate characters. Alaina Alexander was at the singing game for six years until she’d had enough and decided to leave the biz and try to go to school. From the way she laughs when she says it, my guess is that didn’t work out so well for her and here she is, back in the game. For some reason, they are filming her in a gym. There are a few racks of kickballs in back of her and my hope is the judges will use them to lob at the contestants before the show is over. Alaina is crying and then she’s singing “Feelin’ Good,” by Michael Buble. I wish to fuck these kids would learn who the original artists of the songs were. Michael Buble may win a turkey for being the millionth singer to cover this song, but it sure isn’t “his.” Alaina murders the song in its sleep and can’t sing a straight tone to save her life. I think she ought to re-take the SATs and go back to school, ANY school. Unfathomably, Simon thought it was great. I’m stunned. It must be the smog.

Phuong Fan is up next. She claims to have a lot in common with Taylor Hicks, but if I had to compare her to anyone, vocally, it would be Miss Hathaway from “The Beverly Hillbillies.” Phuong’s mother, preparing her for the inevitable, tried to warn her daughter that auditioning for Idol might not be the best idea. However, her mother criticized her looks, which is kind of mean. She’s different looking, but she isn’t ugly. Her mother says Phuong is no Katharine McPhee, yet why on earth would that be considered a bad thing? Ok, then Phuong (who Simon keeps calling “Pong,” and I can’t tell if he’s doing I deliberately) begins to sing. Actually, she has a complete grand mal on stage and I have to wonder if this whole thing is a complete set-up. She’s horrendous. Back to the laundry for Phuong. Mama looks delighted.

Brandon Rogers is a professional back-up singer, having recorded and toured with the likes of Anastacia and Christina Aguilera. I’m sure he’s going to be good, but you’d think being around those heavy hitters, he’d have amassed some sort of connections to not have to go through this bullshit. He’s very charming, though, and has a nice look. He has a really good voice. So nice to hear some good people in and among the jokes.

Sherman Pore is a hundred and sixty years old, but he has a petition of three hundred signatures, so he feels that entitles him to get on the show. No, Sherman, what ensures you’ll get on the show is the fact that you’ll be a prodigious time waster. But before we get to the rest of his story, we’re going to see Brian Miller, who was cut last year during Hollywood Week. I remember Brian well and he was completely cut unjustly. He has a really good voice, though he picked the wrong song for his talent (A Change is Gonna Come). He goes through to Hollywood, though Simon says he doesn’t recall him at all.

Okay, back to Sherman. Sherman recently lost his wife to cancer and this was their dream to get Sherman on the show. Shouldn’t their dream been to get her cancer-free? You know, this is delightful and all, but it hasn’t got a fucking thing to do with what’s going on here. I don’t mean to be heartless, but who cares? This is a human interest story for the Springfield Shopper or some other grocery store circular. Paula is in puddles and the judges are very sweet to him. To his credit, Sherm does have a nice voice and his story is sweet, but again, what show am I watching here?

Day two begins with a Compton couple who are both trying out. They met at a bus stop. Obviously, they need a gag writer, because the obvious response is “We met at a drive-by.” I didn’t catch their names, but she weighs in excess of four hundred pounds and he has a complete silver grille up top. Klassy.

Ryan has some fat thighs for such a little man.

Okay, the woman’s name is Cavett (as in Dick?), but she likes to go by the name of “Sparkles.” Her pants are so tight, she’s sporting an entire camel’s foot. And the other foot must be in her throat. Awful. Darold is next and he doesn’t so much sing the song as narrate it. It’s a good thing these two found each other.

Eric Mueller is next (and last) and is a complete geek, so it looks like we’re ending the way we began. And I was right. Completely ridiculous. So we pretty much wasted an hour.

Well, I did it. I didn’t enjoy it, but I did it. Why am I reminded of eating spinach?

Seagulls out.