“I’m the next American Idol!”
As you may or may not know, one of my guilty pleasures is watching American Idol. Yes, I know that this show is a good example of how the world is going to pot, and being addicted to something so trivial and mindless is not a good thing, but in my defense, it’s the only reality show I ever watch, and the only reason I do so is to observe the interplay between contestants and judges – for me, it’s a fascinating study in psychology, especially as it pertains to the delivery and reception of feedback (yeah, right). Plus, it’s fun to make fun of various people on the show – like the contestants when they give a lousy performance (or slide across the floor like a big dork), or the audience members whenever someone sings a slow song and they wave their arms from side to side like a flock of seaweed waving in the waves, or the contestants when they say something deep and insightful, like, “I was just trying to have fun out there,” or the judges when they say something incomprehensible (doesn’t happen nearly as often since Paula got the boot), or Ryan Seacrest for just about anything he says or does. Yes, I do realize that making fun of these people does nothing more than reveal my own deep-seated insecurities, and that if I was a truly enlightened and self-actualized person, I wouldn’t feel the need to drag others down, but what the hey. Anyhow, the show reached an all-time low for me this week when I saw who the “Celebrity-guest Mentor” was going to be. They’ve had some kind of odd choices in the past (Kenny Rogers?) but this week, they actually had – wait for it – Miley Cyrus (or was it Hannah Montana?) serve as a mentor. In the words of Seth and Amy from SNL – REALLY???!!. I mean, you’re REALLY going to ask a seventeen-year-old (even though she’s been in “the business” for sixteen and a half years) to give advice to these people? And of all the seventeen-year-old singers out there, you’re REALLY going to invite one that suffers from multiple personality disorder? I mean, REALLY? One who thinks she creates an alter-ego by putting on a different colored wig? REALLY? Someone who thinks no one can tell she’s the same person underneath that wig? And yes, I do understand that Superman’s Clark Kent disguise is just about as lame, but there was actually an explanation for why his disguise worked (the lenses on Clark Kent’s glasses were made out of the glass from the spaceship he rode to Earth, so when he looked through them, he had “super-hypnotic” powers and made people see him as weak and frail rather than buff and, well, super – yeah, it’s lame, but it’s better than a wig). And does Miley Cyrus (or Hannah Montana, or whoever she thinks she is at a particular moment in time) REALLY know how to sing in the first place? Whenever I hear her, it sounds, to borrow a phrase from Randy Jackson, “Pitchy, dog. Just bein’ real.” And then when she performed on the results show (yes, I actually watch the results show, and I am fully aware of how pitiful that is, but I love the part when Ryan says, “Dim the lights,” and have borrowed the phrase on several occasions in my own classroom – it really does create a sense of drama) did she REALLY think that her strange and spastic jerking motions were anything other than strange and spastic looking? REALLY Miley/Hannah? Are you seriously taking yourself seriously? Please tell me you’re just playing at this whole thing and laughing all the way to the bank, because if you REALLY think you’re a serious “artist” as you seem to think you are, then you are REALLY, REALLY deluding yourself. Phew. That felt good to get off my chest.
Have you ever kissed a giraffe?
This may seem like a somewhat random query, but the reason I ask is because this week, my lovely wife is spending time at the zoo during her “intersession” session. So everyday, she comes home with a new “zoo tale” to share with her family. For example, one day, she came home and told us that she’d kissed a giraffe. Or maybe the giraffe kissed her? Or maybe it was an anteater? Anyway, someone kissed someone else at the zoo, and there were multiple species involved, as well as at least one tongue. You’ll have to ask her for the details, because, to be honest, now that I’m getting older, I have a tendency to forget the details about events, so I just write about what I think happened, or sometimes I write about what I wished had happened, or sometimes I just write something I think is kind of funny that’s sort of based on what happened. On another day, she came home and, hoping to impress Connor, said, “Guess what I did today, Connor?” to which he replied, “What?” to which she replied, “I brushed a rhinoceros,” to which he replied (with a bored expression and slightly raised eyebrows), “Oh yeah? Well, I brushed the cat.” Touché.
The beat goes on
Boston is now a little bit more than three weeks away, so I’m maxing out my mileage, which is (strangely enough) my favorite part of training. So this week, my “mid-long during the week run” was a 12-miler with some speedwork thrown in (eight ½ mile repeats with ¼ mile recoveries). And this weekend, I’ll be getting up in the 4’s and heading out in the dark so I can run from my house to the starting line of a half-marathon, then I’ll run the half-marathon (23 miles total, more or less), and then I’ll get a ride home (if I was really a stud, I’d be running home as well – oh well). I will also be running in this event to honor all the students in my classes who donated to the cause this year – so I’ll be writing their names (around 80 of them) on my arms and legs in marker, which might look a little bit strange, but what the hey, it’s all for a good cause.
That’s all the news that’s new for now, so until next time, may your idols remain true (as opposed to false), may your mentors remain respectable and respected (as opposed to being openly mocked and ridiculed), and may your animal kisses remain chaste and pure (as opposed to – well, you know).
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