In which Jill's faith in humanity is restored.
When Chris Daughtry was sent home in Season Five, I swore off American Idol. Up until then I'd considered the show a guilty pleasure, sort of like drinking two-buck Chuck with Sunday lunch. But I was shattered that a talent like Daughtry could end up in third place. So I stopped watching Idol, instead recommitting to my other guilty pleasure, Supernanny--the subject of another blog entirely.
But my faith in the American aesthetic is renewed--and not just because three people now owe me a "really nice dinner." (Hey Matt, two words: La Grenouille.)
While channel surfing I stumbled onto David Cook smack dab in the middle of his haunting rendition of Michael Jackson's Billie Jean. The arrangement comes by way of Chris Cornell (whom I've adored since his days as Soundgarden's front man), and Cook won me over. (Check out Cornell's version here.) Add to that the feat of making the Beatles' Eleanor Rigby and Dolly Parton's Little Sparrow his own, and a refreshingly un-Hollywood demeanor of gratitude and humility, and well, we have our guy.
Judging from Daughtry's subseqent success--take that, Taylor Hicks!--winning American Idol isn't a prerequisite for being a pop star. The eerily pixie-like David Archuleta will undoubtedly go platinum himself. But it's likely that David Cook benefitted from a rueful American public that gave contestants like Sanjaya way too much room and redeemed itself by buying Daughtry discs by the millions--and voting overwhelmingly for Cook.
As Paula Abdul said in the middle of the season, "You're it, baby! You're it!" Nice comeback, America! Now excuse me while I go crack open a bottle of you-know-what.
Posted May 21, 2008 8:13 PM
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