This Is American Idol
March 13, 2009
In case you didn't catch it from the previous post, my darling bride is away for a week. (I've been told that until we've been married a year, she is my "bride" and not my "wife") She's gone home to the family farm, as they say, in western Pennsylvania for her mother's birthday.
There's not much to do at her parent's house besides talk about the Rapture with her father and listen to his loopy, garbled, and regurgitated theories about how President Obama will be the last American President ever, and there's not much to watch on TV that doesn't upset her father's delicate Christian sensibilities. The only show she and her parents could agree to watch was American Idol, or simply "Idol" as her mother calls it. I don't know how many of you watch, but I'm sure you're all familiar with the premise: a bunch of delusional yahoos and one or two genuine talents compete for votes from a bunch of tone-deaf couch potatoes. It's early in the season, and there are still many hopefuls in the mix. I wasn't able to watch myself (I was busy being interviewed by my friend Joe for his latest top-secret book project — more on that later), but Deborah gave me an update on which contestants were voted off and which ones were safe. She also explained why some of the lamest performers manage to stay so long: "Because of people like my father," she said.
Her father can only tolerate listening to two contestants — his favorite, a joe-sixpack iron worker whose performances always sound like a wedding band let the best man come up and sing a song, and his second favorite, a milquetoast visually-impaired piano player who, despite all the cliches, simply can't sing.
"My father says he can't stand the heavy metal music that everyone else was singing," said Deborah.
"Heavy metal?" I laughed.
"I know. He started going off on one of his tangents about how much better music was when he was young."
It's impossible to find hypocrisy in her father's love of the Lawrence Welk Show, but when he started reminiscing about people like Elvis Presley, Deborah couldn't let it slide. "Rock and Roll has always been Devil's Music," she told him. "Even in the fifties. And Elvis Presley in particular was considered one of the worst offenders of public decency the world had ever known."
Her father wasn't listening. He simply rocked back and forth as he often does and stared into space, perhaps fantasizing about the house in heaven he's been promised, imagining himself on the front porch listening to 45s from Elvis Presley's gospel period. It's a nice house, I'm sure. Not too fancy, of course. And it'll probably still cost a few grand a year to heat it. After all, God's not a socialist.
Deborah's cousin lives next door, and that's where she's been staying. Her cousin is married with two kids and two dogs, and it's a full, noisy, messy house, but it's still preferable over staying in her old bedroom.
When Idol was over, Deborah walked back to her cousin's house where her cousin's family was just finishing dinner — which for their two-year-old son included beer and chocolate cake. Deborah was tempted to point out that AA is filled with people whose stories begin exactly that way but, as a guest in the house, decided it was better not to bother and instead asked her cousin about work.
Her cousin works at the West Virginia location of a well-known camping chain. An "outfitter" specializing in all things outdoors — camping, hunting, fishing, and so on. The last time Deborah visited, her cousin was worried about losing her job. Sales were down, and the store had been laying people off. Given the way the economy has been lately, Deborah assumed things had gotten worse.
"No," her cousin said. "Ever since Obama got elected, gun sales have been through the roof. The day after the election, they actually called in extra workers to handle it. Everyone is convinced Obama is going to take away their guns, so they're stocking up. Obama has been great for the gun business."
