1.16.2008

American dreams

Grab your kids. Lock the doors. Grab some popcorn ...

It's American Idol time. Kates and I were rookies last year, but we survived. Now we're back for a second dose, and this review sums it up perfectly ...
The start of the Idol season is a lot like recommitting oneself to fitness excellence after seven months of sloth.

There's at least a little bit of dread: ''Wait, Idol's back already? What if this season is a bust? What if there's nobody in the finals I want to root for? What if Simon makes fun of a mentally challenged kid at the auditions again?'' There's most certainly pain: Milo Turk's ''No Sex Allowed'' was a triple assault on my ears, my eyes, and any love I may have ever felt for novelty songs. There might be a few tears: Oh, Temptress Browne, I'd have joined that group hug in a skinny minute! (More on that in a moment.) But by the time you're finished with the workout (or, yes, the season premiere), you realize something: ''Hey, I'm suddenly chock-full of endorphins. I feel amazing. I'm going to go back tomorrow, and at least twice a week from now until the end of May!''

... So let's get to the point: I wasn't as impressed with last night's premiere as I remembered being last year. I was a little frustrated that last night's show seemed to spend much more time focusing on the bad auditions then the talented singers ...

But there was a whole lot to like. ... Kristy Lee Cook was good. Junot Joyner did one of my favorite Elton John songs well. And Chicago girl Angela Martin, her heart-wrenching back story aside (her daughter has Rett syndrome) shined. But my favorite was easily the final audition of the night, the charming blonde Brooke White. Her rendition of Corrine Bailey Rae's "Like a Star" was better than the real thing. (Check out her MySpace and this blog post.)

My favorite audition bombs of the night: Alexis Cohen was a disaster, but snooty Christina "Princess Leia" Tolisano -- and her rant about Idol only taking models for its contestants -- was plain nuclear.

* * *

... So I had an interesting dream last night.

... I dreamt I was part of some group of agents preparing to carry out an assassination attempt against a leader, possibly of another country (I was up late last night watching a couple fascinating! documentaries about Kennedy's assassination and all of the surrounding conspiracy theories -- none of which, by the way, have held up... Read about the documentaries I watched here and here.) ...

The imagery of the dream is fading this morning. But I remember scenes of preparation and lurking around a ritzy hotel with my partners -- sort of like Danny Ocean's 11 at the Bellagio, though the hotel was more classic 1940s than glitzy Las Vegas ...

And then I remember, just before we were about to carry out this plot, our group was sitting on the floor of a hotel conference room, in a circle, a la Sunday School like we were about to sing Kum-bay-ya... The plot began to unravel right in front of us as opposing leaders, who were previously unaware of the plot, began to question our motives like some sort of congressional hearing ...

Arguing ensued, and suddenly I shot to my feet, pounded my fists on a table in front of me and shouted something like "Enough!"

A man sitting across the table, who I think was an attorney I know, looked at me and asked sternly, "So what should we do?"

I couldn't answer him, no matter how badly I wanted to speak my opinion. I was speechless.

And that's all I remember of the dream ... My lack of aggression and assertiveness in certain situations has dogged me in recent months. I wonder if this has anything to do with that ...

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