America's Next Top David

(or, The Idol We Deserve)

Man, that was a weird show! Or, I should say, a weird two shows, at the very least, because I clearly saw two different things going on. And then there was that whole other show that the judges saw, where David A. cured cancer and hung the moon, but that is another story and far beyond my limited powers of analysis, and blogging.

Show 1: David A., whom forevermore I shall call Tickle Me David (thanks to my smarty colleague, Miss WordPerfect), competed for the American Idol Championship. He brought his A game, did exactly what he needed to do, did not veer from his packaged formula one iota, sang the song we all wanted to hear again ("Imagine"), and will likely take home the title tonight, in a blaze of tears, Clearasil, and hormones.

Show 2: David C. performed, competently as ever, for another episode of American Idol. He did not seem to understand that this was THE CHAMPIONSHIP. The fighting analogies . . . puzzled him. He good-naturedly hugged his opponent and gave him head noogies. And he chose, as his final sing-out, a song we've never heard him sing, rather than "Billie Jean," the song we clamored for.

One has to wonder—does David C. actually want the title? He didn't perform badly, after all—but he also didn't sing for his life, as Tickle-Me did. Did Shoeless Joe really throw the game? Will we ever know for sure?

My excellent boss has believed that the whole thing's fixed, ever since Jason Castro flubbed the one line everyone can sing of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and didn't even seem rattled by it. I didn't think so then (little seems to rattle mellow Mr. Castro), but now I truly wonder.

Random thoughts:

• After Tickle-Me sang "Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me," Li'l Martini remarked, "I despise him, but this is a good song." Mimosa: "That's not even a sun behind him, it's a star."

• Every time they show Tickle Me Senior in the audience, I think, "Wow, Danny Bonaduce's here!" Separated at birth, those two.

• Idol should borrow a page from Survivor and do The Walk of the Fallen Idols. I would love to hear Tickle-Me's heartfelt tribute to Amanda Overmeyer. Or David C. having to wax rhapsodic over Kristy Lee Cook.

Miss WordPerfect says that she can't bear to watch two solid hours of Tickle-Me tonight, but if we go by past finales we'll see the Idolettes for maybe 15 minutes. She has other reasons to fear the finale, of course, but that ain't one of 'em.

I predict a blowout for Tickle Me David, though I did my duty and phoned it in for David C. as long as my redial held out. Hey, he phoned it in for me, it's the least I could do.

Lady Chardonnay, chilling the bottles in preparation for tonight, and OUT.