Idol Beat: The One

Mea culpa: Yi. I typed this entire post - then accidentally closed the Mozilla Firefox window and lost everything. Let this be a lesson to every blogger out there: compose in Word. For real.American Idol winner Kris Allen practices his "Who, me?" showbiz face.

Let's not belabor this: Kris Allen won. It is not, in fact, gay folks' time. I'm not especially surprised, but I am disappointed. What can you do, though? Adam Lambert will drop an amazing album someday. Kris will drop a lame album that will clutter used bins and flea markets in five years' time. You know I'm right. So much happened Wednesday that the usual, exhaustive rundown of quips doesn't begin to do it justice, and I'm literally falling asleep in front of my screen. So I'm just going to randomly scan my notes and highlight a few things in Uzi style. Like, this was sort of an

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high school reunion, with Bo Bice and Reuben showing up in the audience, right? And David Cook's single about his brother was really touching, and I hope you downloaded it from iTunes - the proceeds go to a cancer-cure charity. And that Black Eyed Peas song was tight! They had the most amazing backup dancers ever, seriously. So that's it for


Beat. This entry marks Idol Beat post No. 32, which means the number of years I've been alive equals the numer of times I've typed up Idol Beat recaps - which isn't really saying anything. This experience has been a lot of fun, if stressful, straining, and utterly exasperating at times.


Beat was my first-ever television blogging gig, and it probably showed; less the pre-


Beat freedom to skip a performance or even an entire episode, keeping up with a twice-per-week reality TV show and trying to write about it in an amusing-yet-cogent way becomes a grind over time. Eventually, it can be difficult to care who's accomplishing what on any given night or to remember that Idol isn't just a cynical, smoke-and-mirrors grab for advertising cash. What it is, most of the time, is something bigger than that: an inspirational demonstration that with pluck, talent and a little behind-the-scenes

deus ex machina

, anybody can become at least semi-famous - a band-geek lookin' guy (Clay Aiken), a single mother with a Donald Duck voice (Fantasia), a delusional freakshow (Keith Beukelaer) or even the "You Are My Brother" dude, who deserves an honorary spot in the

American Idol

Hall of Fame. Thanks to Chris Gray and his superiors for giving me this opportunity - hopefully I didn't blow it too much - and for everybody who read


Beat and/or chimed in with kudos, criticisms, or outright slander. It's been real. I don't know whether I'll be back next January for another go at what often turned into the Texas Bucky Covington Appreciation Society, but I'll never forget this. This week, what say you outro


Beat with your favorite Covington quotes - or Sanjaya book excerpts, or Paula Abdul manglings, or


ephemera whatever? A la Jay-Z on "Party Life," "I'm gonna just let this ride out..."

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