Déjà Vu All Over Again

Hey, haven't I seen you here before?

So, last night. Some people sang. Some were good, some were bad. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you knew which would be which before they opened their mouths. (Titanium Wrist Boy was my one surprise — I was prepared for him to be a train wreck, but he was lovely! I must've had on my schmoopy look, as Mimosa leaned over during his song and said, "You want a hug?")

The judges blathered and bickered, postured and pontificated.

Victoria Beckham was a surprisingly gracious addition (I thought she'd be a snot), though she seemed to have as many comments about people's appearance as their vocal abilities, which was odd — though also honest, I guess, as this show has always been about both. I'm still bitter about that poor dumpy nanny from years back with the beautiful voice — pre-Susan Boyle, that babe didn't stand a chance.

No one really stood out for me, but I do have questions:

• After those two exuberant back slaps he received from muscular contestants, will poor wee Ryan start wearing protection?
• How did the judges keep a straight face throughout scatting Wizard of Oz chick?
• And then how on earth did she get through? To paraphrase the immortal words of Jeff Spicoli, People on 'ludes should NOT judge.
  
• How does one make a living as an actor on a speed boat?
• Similar question: Is "college graduate" really a profession? Dang, I've been missing a bet all these years.
• Are there any Idol words more terrifying than "an inspirational story of courage"? (Justin Williams! Cancer-free! Handsome, talented, self-satisfied! It's one for the ages.)

My favorites from last night are the aforementioned Titanium Wrist Boy and Jess Wolfe, cute blondish girl with great glasses, whom we saw for five seconds. (Said Mimosa, "I knew you'd like her, because she looks like you, a little bit." My daughter is wise and pretty and good. And raised perfectly.)

Mrs. Cynicletary says she's getting a "jumped the shark" vibe this season. I'm not cuing the theme from Jaws yet — I'm still anticipating the certain joy of upcoming guest judge Neil Patrick Harris — but today, yes, ennui engulfs me. I think I've even written this post before. And I'm newly recovered from stomach flu, I can't even turn to strong drink to lift my spirits. C'est la vie.

Ever thine,
Lady Chardonnay