Friday, September 08, 2006

I am decidedly not the next American Idol

I probably could have guessed this going into the whole scenario, but...

So, yeah, today was audition day. Much to blog about. Let's get rolling.

4:30a: Am I really waking up at 4:30am to audition for American Idol?

4:45a: I am showering with a plastic bag on my left hand, lest I get my precious orange wristband wet.

5:10a: I arrive at the Target Center. Again, there is a line around the building. There is also a gigantic crowd on the other side of the building, which is perhaps part of the line. I embrace the smaller line concept, and noboddy seems to complain.

5:31a: Some overeager Fox lackeys are handing out promotional items for Fox's new lineup. We are the proud recipients of some "Standoff" mints and a "'til Death" stressball.

5:52a: The smell of bodyspray is now overpowering. Are they misting us with the stuff without my knowing it.

6:15a: I'm inside. Oh, the pandemonium. Water bottles are not allowed inside. Seroiusly? I have to ditch my Pomona College nalgene bottle. Turns out I will never see it again. "WILSOOOOOOON!"

6:35a: We are seated, some producer guy who gets way too much way for way too unimportant of a job, is begninning to direct the crowd to take their assigned seats.

6:41a: I've hear estimates of 22,000 auditioners for this go-around. If there are 22,000 people, the Target Center must seat about 55,000.

6:48a: They would like us to sing 1999 by Prince as a group song, cause this is, you know, reality television, so let's just do what the producers tell us.

6:55a: Water bottles are $3.75. Does anyone know if Aquafina was behind those thwarted London bombings?

7:20a: It's Ryan Seacrest! My God, Ryan Seacrest. I'd slit my throat now, that I might die happy, but, alas, knifes and swords are banned on the premesis.

7:30a: Seacrest is doing an intro bit in front of the crowd. A secondary, more reasonably paid producer asks a plain looking chubby girl to switch with a more attractive girl.

7:31a: A lifelong battle with bulimia is born.

7:40a: The overpaid producer is getting snippy at the people who insist on taking pictures. "Your ruining the shot, and it's really annoying me." Yep, that's California.

8:15a: After about 90 minutes of clapping and waving and being really confident that we are all, individually, the next American Idol, the overpaid producer tells us how the audition will work. Apparently, the judges are looking for originality this year. So, would that exclude the 83% or so guys who are sporting aviator sunglasses to compliment their sportcoat/jeans scenario.

8:35a: The OP is still talking.

8:50a: We are loosed. I try to find some spot to warm up, but hallways are littered with half-naked teenage girls butchering Whitney Houston and Barbara Streisand.

8:56a: Real-life conversation between mother and daughter

Mother: Why are you being like this?
Daughter: You need to stop being a bitch.
Mother: Well, maybe I should just F------ leave!
Daughter: Fine, f--- you. What the hell is in this bag? Papers?

9:02a: A number of the poppiest looking kids seem to know each other. They start talking about school, and I come to understand that there are those who are in school for this. Like, literally, a school that cultivated pop singers. Is my tax money supporting this? I must find out at once.

9:15a: Auditions begin! Essentially, 48 people are auditioned every 2 minutes. talk about a cattle call.

9:28a: Nobody has been invited back for tomorrow. The judges have just rejected the first 125 or so folks.

9:33a: Some chick wearing a sandwich board breaks the streak. I'll just hazard a wild guess that she can't sing.

9:37a: Some attractive (and fully clothed) hispanic lady is the first legit winner. This does not bode well. Am I a one in 10 talent? Yes. 1 in 20, perhaps? 1 in 200? Not so much. And I'm ugly to boot. I am wearing my spiffy American Eagle track jacket, and my professionally distressed jeans, though. Plus, I don't have aviator glasses.

9:58a: At this point, four people who don't look like they got crapped out of the retard factory have been asked to return. Each of them leaves the main floor to applause. I'm starting to feel ill about my chances.

10:05a: My section is called. It's time. This is my moment. I have my whole life riding on this.

10:15a: I am put into my group of four.

10:22a: Some dude who can barely sing, but looks like he should play bass for Jet gets through. His very expensive jeans have paid off.

10:28a: It's time to sing! I'm the last of my foursome. The other three are not good at all. That should bode well.

10:30a: I am singing, and doing it well. The moderately-powerful, possibly underpaid producer is not rolling her eyes, which is a good sign.

10:31a: No dice. Some powerless, possibly volunteerin, intern-type producer cuts my wristband. I am not the next American Idol.

10:35a: Where the @#$% is my Nalgene? Did they throw away my Nalgene? A number of people are distraught w/r/t myriad lunch boxes et al... That's a pretty damn funny little slap in the face at the end of disappointment.

10:40a: I can't wait to audition next year! I know that this is my destiny.


Anonymous Sarah said...

Maybe you should have worn a kilt and had a set of bag pipes with you. That might have at least gotten you thru the 1st round.

Bummer Kev. You'll get there someday. This will just be another scene in the made-for-tv movie they'll make of you one day..

12:49 PM  
Blogger Baron von Bauerick said...

You did happen to post this at the lucky time of 11:11....maybe that's a sign for next year??

10:20 PM  
Blogger The Giesenator said...

What do they know? They are just big shot producers. I had a friend who went up there, best singer in the county. Got shut down. Maybe i should go up there next year, i can't sing a single note, but im sure i could make myself a total idiot.

12:06 AM  
Blogger Kevin Sawyer said...

I think the people who were listening know rather a lot. The show is extremely entertaining to watch, even for ruthless cynics like me.

While 90% of the auditioners ranged from average to awful, I did hear some jaw-dropping vocals from people who were quickly dismissed. It's a television show, not Juilliard.

I do wonder what would've happened if I had gotten on a show where singing a Creed song is deemed self-indulgently edgy.

10:04 PM  
Anonymous peter said...

It was a good run.

9:46 AM  
Anonymous Thom said...

The terrorists have won...

10:33 AM  

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