A Bright Star Falls

So sad. Mandisa was not only my favorite, she was also one of the best singers. It was not her time.

And yet, when it came down to her and Elliot, I found myself whispering "Mandisa . . . Mandisa . . ." over and over. Mandisa is poised, primed, and ready to be a star. I'm not worried about her. Elliot . . . Elliot needs a little more polishing, a little more exposure. He needs Idol right now more than Mandisa does. So even though I hate it—Elliot, Mandisa, and Paris, the most improbable bottom three ever—it could have been worse.

It's such an odd setup. The fact that we can vote more than once for anyone has always been a puzzle to me. If a rabid fan votes 300,000 times for Kellie Pickler, is that same fan going to buy more than one Kellie Pickler CD? Wouldn't you get a more accurate sense of how much support each candidate has if only one vote per candidate were allowed? I ask you.

(But I'm talking through my hat. Since I've never bought an Idol-related CD, ever, I am clearly not the show's target audience. Though last year I was wildly tempted to buy concert tickets for me and Mrs. Cynicletary, since she would hate it so much. The show, she loves. The post-show Idolettes, not so much.)

The themes this year are just plain weird. Queen? How sad I am not to see Kevin Covais attempt this. (Ha.) I'll have to content myself with Bucky. Ohhh, mama.

Good luck, Mandisa. It was a joy getting to know you. God bless.

Lady Chardonnay OUT.