WILL AMERICAN IDOL EVER END?

When I began to train for my first marathon in 2002, I strapped on my radio walkman and listened to whatever stations I had programed into the thing. One Sunday, during a long run, I pushed the PBS button. No music. "Dang!" I thought. They often feature live concert rebroadcasts by the Minnesota Orchestra (I lived in the Twin Cities) which are perfect for running the lakes.

Rather, there was an interview with TV Guide columnist Joe Queenan. He discussed one of his books. In "Red Lobster, White Trash and the Blue Lagoon," he devotes an entire summer to finding the worst entertainment possible. Why did he feel the need? Because he couldn't believe how bad "Cats" was, and was impelled to seek out something worse. I won't tell you the outcome(though the title gives you food for thought), but I will tell you that the composer--and I use that term liberally--of Cats is Andrew Loyd Weber--the source of American Idol's songlist this week.

Now folks, I don't mean to offend any fans of ALW(I know you paid good money for those theater tickets last time in the NYC) but his music is at best, drab and plagiaristic. It's perfect fodder for the likes American Idol, looking to fill the gap between Dolly Parton week and Neil Diamond week next time. Seriously.

This show starts with 30,000 contestants, and eliminates one each week. This week it was the gal--Carly?--with the world's largest tattoo on her arm, who was at the voters' hindmost. Oh writers! Why must you strike? "Reality TV" has insinuated itself into our culture and I keep living in households where someone--not me-- has been snatched in its ruthless talons and I'm coerced into watching the bloodshed.

They're down to .....6? I don't really know. On line, I see discussions contemplating who will be the NEXT American Idol...I don't know who was the last. Often, it's a semantic banter over the meaning of "idol." Whatever. I just want to buy a big enough house so I can vanish when Michael Bolton week comes up.