American Idol - my guilty pleasure

Ok, so a couple of years ago when one would ask me if I watched American Idol, I would turn my nose up and say NO WAY. I hated the show. I hated everything it stood for. I was probably just jealous. Maybe I figured if I couldn't be American Idol, then it doesn't deserve me as a viewer!! I don't know...but I hated it.

Then about three or four years ago when I was commuting from Garyville to Baton Rouge everyday, I started listening to Kidd Kraddick in the morning. I loved the show, but every week they would go on and on about this dang show! It still didn't make me like the show, but at least I knew what was going on later when the office breakroom was discussing it in detail. Every so often I could inject an opinion since Kidd Kraddick would play clips. I could fit in with the TV socialites. I went on with my weekly updates, and all was good.

And then one night towards the middle of that particular season, I happened to catch the middle of an episode on tv. I considered changing the channel is disgust, but I thought, maybe I should just see what all the hype is about?? So, I indulged myself. It was cheesy, and it was comical at points. Some singers were actually pretty good. I liked rating them using my own little voice background and singing ability. It made me feel like I had an edge above the average viewer.

And then there was Chris.

Ahhh, Chris Daughtry. He was a vision. I caught his performance (and I can't remember what he was singing that particular night), but I was hooked. I thought, why is this even a competition?? Why isn't he just the winner?? Should I vote?? No, that would be absurd! I hate this show. But I love Chris. I mean, for no reason should this hottie patottie NOT be the next American Idol, whatever an American Idol is. He was dreamy. And so I watched again the next week. Like a caffeine addiction, I fed myself weekly episodes intraveniously. I couldn't wait to see what stops he would pull out the next week. It was great. Not only could I participate in breakroom chatter, I was a vital member of the committee! Every morning we would convene over watered down coffee and discuss the drama that took place the night before.

And then....like a jolted punch to the stomach, he was kicked off with still three contestants left to go.

WHAT?!?!

Are you serious?!?! How can it be?

I was devastated. For real! I was sooo shocked and mad and angry at America for not voting. I mean, I sure as hell wasn't going to vote, but they should have!! How could they!?!? Poor Chris. Why did I let myself get sucked into this stupid show!!?? I vowed the night he was voted off to never watch that debacle again. The next Tuesday night, I completely ignored the TV altogether. I was curious....but NO. I couldn't do it. I had to NOT WATCH for Chris' sake. I took comfort in knowing that we'd be hearing from him again on the radio....and we did. Now, I did snap the tube on for a few minutes of the last episode of that season to see the gray-haired, joke of a dancer Taylor Hicks take the trophy. WHATEV! I was done.

The following year, it started all over again. I told myself that that was just a blip. I was not going to get hooked again. My mother-in-law was living with us at the time, and one night while flipping channels, I stopped on American Idol. I sometimes struggled to find something we could both enjoy since I was such a Lifetime rerun junkie, so I handed her the remote and said she could watch whatever she wanted. She said, "no, let's just see what's going on here." So, we watched...and like a recovering drug addict giving into temptation, I relapsed. And I liked. And we liked. And we BOTH got hooked. In fact, the whole household was hooked. Soon we were planning our dinner around showtimes. Each week at 7pm on Tuesday night, we were all gathered around the TV like a 1950s poster family. And although this was an addiction I did not like to admit, it brought me closer to my in-laws. We loved discussing different performances. My father-in-law loved to disagree with me about Sanjaya. It was bliss. I watched an entire season, and I didn't self-destruct. It was surprising...and nice. That was the year that Jordin Sparks won. We all picked her to win, although I did love little Blake too.

Last year, I watched most of the season alone or with Bart. It wasn't quite the same. I didn't watch as faithfully without my in-law cheerleaders. I found new comfort in texting with my friends Christina and Michelle. It gave me a something to look forward to each week, a way to keep up with two more friends on a weekly basis. Every so often I would call my mother-in-law, and it gave us a lot to talk about. You see, she also watched faithfully from Baton Rouge. She liked David Cook and David Archuletta, and we were pretty good at choosing the right person to get voted off for that week. I got the feeling that she missed her AI partner as much as I missed mine.

A few weeks after David Cook won that last season, my mother-in-law returned to our house for her final visit. We never got to watch another season of American Idol together again. I suppose I'll watch it out of obligation now. I still do enjoy watching the different contestants take the stage. It's fun to critique them and talk about them with friends. I still like being the master of the breakroom chatter.

For some, it's just another show on the boob tube.

For me, it's a guilty pleasure that will always remind me of my time with my mother-in-law.

And maybe Mrs. Bev's catching a couple of episodes of American Idol from heaven.