I take nothing away from sweet Kris. Well-played, well-earned, well done—he had a KICKIN' season, and I couldn't be happier for him.
We've all seen Idolettes who've grown and blossomed throughout the season, but we haven't seen one of them win before. And, I would argue, every season up till now, it wasn't that hard to figure out who would win, if you were paying attention to things like never being in the bottom three. But this year knocked everything I "knew" on its head.
Adam was not for all tastes, and, as I noted before, there were people who would never vote for him for reasons that have nothing to do with singing. It doesn't matter. He is going to have a brilliant career. I'm nothing but happy this morning.
So let's go back in time now, shall we, and talk about these two crazy shows?
Honest Liz hosted a party on Tuesday, which was great fun. Attendees were me, Brunie, Mimosa, Wilbur, Little Joe, and Felicity Goddess Mother (FGM). A great deal of hooch was poured, and my favorite snack was the never-ending glass of Twizzlers. Good times!
The TV screen split, revealing Adam on one side and Kris on the other. Dramatic! The leopard vs. the puppy! See, you think the leopard will win, don't you? So you try to save the puppy. Dang. I should've thought of that. But at the time I'm all, Go, leopard! Sigh.
We speculate over whether Kara did indeed write this year's Crappy Coronation Song. "Kara writes the songs that make me vomit," opined one quipster (much hooch had been poured, it took me an hour to puzzle out the word "vomit" here from my notes—don't ask me to accurately report who said anything).
Ongoing topic of the evening: Would you rather hear that your child was going to jail, war, or Harvard? Don't ask.
FGM waxed rhapsodic over Adam's eye make-up, wishing he'd write a book of eyeliner tips. Ooh, career path! 'Cause (spoiler!) I happen to know he'll need a paying gig, come tomorrow.
We are stupefied by our first glimpses of the judges. Paula has been bronzed and is honoring her Irish roots by dressing in lucky green. And is honoring her whorish roots with her boobage, there is no other explanation.
Simon, not to be outdone, displays his own boobage. My God, it's a forest in there. I shield my daughter's eyes. The boys grow very excited and verbose, and Brunie Lays Down the Law, namely, You don't speak when Simon speaks. We got it.
Adam performs "Mad World" and it's as eerie and beautiful as I remember, and also strangely full of joy, and I love Adam so much. Simon, who's been sniping all season that this is a singing competition, criticizes Adam's . . . coat.
Okay. See, as I "recap," all the signs were there, I just didn't read them, I was busy holding up my empty glass and saying, "Wilburrrrr?" in my most cajoling voice. Yes, I was enticing 11 year olds to pour my wine. Your point?
Kris sings "Ain't No Sunshine" and it's awesome and he's adorable and we had a group swoon. (Honest Liz, I meant to clean that up after—sorry!)
Paula's bright greenness amuses us for the rest of the evening. She said . . . something, and I shouted, "Blarney!" in a lilting Irish accent. Oh how we laughed.
Randy's jacket is likewise cracking me up. After the show he'll sell you a car!
We see Kris holding a prop baby, and I want to vote for him immediately.
Adam comes out wearing such tight pants, Brunie comments, "I can tell his religion from here." He sings "A Change Is Gonna Come" and emotes like crazy. Mimosa and I are drinkin' the Kool-Aid, we sway on the sofa, arms overhead. I wish I had a lighter to hold up. Adam cares. Also, we admire his exquisite dental work. Adam flosses.
Katie Holmes is in the house! Covering Suri's ears! "She doesn't want Suri to know that some men are gay," I whisper. Hee.
"You can sing your face off" is really not a compliment I enjoy. Bad visual. Let's find another one, shall we, Randy?
Kara says "artistry," I yell "Artistry!" and take a drink, which amuses the boys, because they are young. I told them that I also get to drink for "Make it your own" and "rainbow." Not to give anything away, but Kara got me snockered.
Paula said something, and I cried "Paula go bragh-less!" in my wonderful Irish accent. This brought down the crowd, because we are young. And snockered.
And we are just in the mood for a Crappy Coronation Song, which doesn't disappoint. This Is My Shining Rainbow Moment, My Now, While I Climb the Mountain, as sung by Adam and then Kris, and Brunie and I have a minor dust-up over whether it's actually the same song (I say yes, she says no), but as dust-ups go, this one set a new record for minor—(1) see "snockered" above, and (2) once seated, neither of us actually likes to get up. But she felt my wrath, I'll you that.
Folks, I've been working nine-hour days at the computer for the past week and a half (hence, the lack of blogging) and my wrists are killing me, so I must stop for now and "do" the finale later. I will leave you with a final anecdote:
Brunie called me at 10:10 last night and said, "Can you believe it? FGM was pissed." I said, "I haven't watched it yet. Wait, FGM liked Kris, right? Kris doesn't win?" Brunie back-pedaled marvelously but ordered me to watch it, and also said that something happened that made her like Kara after all. Me: "She realized that her song was crap and said that no one has to sing it after all?" Brunie: "I don't like her that much."
(I stopped working at midnight, took a quick hot shower, and fell into bed with the tape Mr. Lady C had made for me . . . which stopped right after Tatiana. So, in fact, Ms. Brunie, you did tell me who the winner is! For which I am grateful.)
Lady Chardonnay OUT! But back again soon.
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