American Idol Proves A Good Message Can Go Too Far
By Jane Hill
June 13, 2005

A few months ago I sat in my living room watching the American Idol contestant search. I cringed more times than not. Of course I realize that the editors use clips from the best and worst for entertainment value. But what grabbed my attention was the sheer devastation some of these abominable singers demonstrated after being given the axe. Some sobbed and recanted stories of spending their very last dime to buy a bus ticket to the audition. Others lashed out at the judges in anger, calling Randy Jackson a fat pig with no talent, Simon Cowell a British idiot “who don’t know nothing” and Paula Abdul was “just jealous.” That was all concerning enough but nothing alarmed me quite as much as the degree of earnest incredulity they exhibited. These people utterly and truly believed they had the voice of Maria Callas and that the world needed them. (Earth to Mars, Earth to Mars, over)

How did we go from a society of dream-crushing individuals who told their children all the things they couldn’t do to a bunch of politically correct morons who elevate the unrealistic expectations of their kids to such a degree that someone like William Hung could ever believe his version of “She Bangs” by Ricky Martin was anything but a comedy sketch? Incidentally, I think Hung is probably a pretty smart guy – academically speaking – with a bright future ahead of him as a nuclear physicist, or something in that realm. But I wouldn’t bet the ranch he’ll be in high demand as the next Calvin Klein underwear model or that he’ll share a note with Pavarotti.

What’s happened to middle ground, common sense, balance? What’s with the inability of people to open the world for their child and dare them to dream while keeping a reality check in place as well? I’m probably not going out on a limb by suggesting your five-foot-one-inch son doesn’t have a really good chance shooting hoops alongside Charles Barkley for a living. Nor do I think it’s a wise bet that your teenager with deep acne scars, a glass eye, bald spots and a sweet tooth pushing her over the weight of your uncle dubbed “The Fat Man” should be encouraged to walk the runway at next season’s couture show. This is about as common as common sense gets folks.

Conversely, some very talented musicians, actors and writers have worked tirelessly for decades, living on scraps just to make their dreams come true. JK Rowling is a marvelous example of persistence and thanks to it, millions of readers have entered the world of Harry Potter. To dream is great, to have a long shot is motivating, to really suck mandates kindhearted friends and family to intercede.

Whole different story for William Hung. Vocal exercises, voice lessons – hell, Pavarotti himself – nothing is going to turn him into last season’s Bo Bice. And I haven’t even broached the subject of his appearance fitting into the current music scene. Yes, I sound a lot like Simon Cowell but more times than not, he’s right on the mark. Paula, on the other hand, qualifies as the parent most likely to cheer on her shy, geeky, anti-social, computer-hacking son in his quest to be the next Eddie Murphy.

You’ve really got to wonder if these parents are sadists in sheep’s clothing or just truly that clueless themselves (at least that would explain this as a genetic malfunction). Because you’d have to be to encourage outlandish goals for a kid who anyone, but the dead, can tell you is doomed to fail. Do they have any clue how brutal the constant rejection is on the ego? There’s an abundance of extremely talented individuals who’ve described the gut-wrenching pain of having complete strangers tear them down again and again. Imagine when there is no light around the corner – when they’re truly right because you’ve been seriously deceived by those who love you.

The cringe factor of those auditions was pretty high. Even so, nothing compared to the kids wailing in the arms of their parents who ensured them it was the judges who don’t know good talent when they see it and they’ll be sorry they lost this next singing sensation. And there goes Timmy following mama out of the auditorium – raising his hands in a defiant Rocky pose.
Yet, I’m sure to sit in astonishment again during next season’s auditions; watching kids who’ve sold the shirts off their back to get there emit sounds that should be reserved exclusively for police interrogation rooms, and only as a last resort.

Something tells me that Jim Carrey’s parents wouldn’t have encourage their son to pursue a degree in Library Sciences. Imagine his reaction to Pam Anderson look-a-likes in Daisy Dukes thumbing through the card files in the very bottom drawer. Same goes for hysterically funny and quick-witted Chris Rock. Mom and dad couldn’t ever have truly entertained…say…accounting.
And in the words of comic master Rock, “call me k-rrrrrr-azy” but if Ozzy Osbourne decides to go into brain surgery or anything related to the Vatican, tell him to stick to Gothic rock!

http://www.useless-knowledge.com/