Thou Shalt Not Rip on American Idol

This is the cardinal commandment of post-idol rejection, which I am now putting into practice. Sure, I could be one of those people who ooze bitterness and lament over the gimmick contestants that stole their golden ticket, but that's soooo last season...

Instead I'm choosing to recount the things I have to be grateful for: I'm grateful that I didn't break down in front of the judge and squeak my way through the song. I stood up straight, looked him right in the eye, snapped, and belted it out as best I can. I feel good about that. Second, I'm grateful that I was being myself, and if they weren't in the market for the Lacy-types that day, then at least I wasn't trying to be someone else. Third, and the biggest one, I'm grateful that I'm constantly surrounded by friends and family who I love and who have a mutual place in their hearts for me, who want more than a 30 second interview! I'm also grateful that I'm still a singer, and I know God has plans for this voice.

That being said, I can see things I might have done differently. Walking to the middle of the audition space instead of standing right in front of the judge, or smiling more, picking a different song...these are all little things that may have tipped the scales in my favor, I think. Who knows?

Rejection is hard, and it's tempting to think I must be a no-talent hack who should've spent more time carving out a legitimate trade. But at the end of the Day, Idol is a TV show before it's a talent competition. Sure, it would've provided a huuuge boost in my singing career, but I witnessed with my own eyes other talented singers who felt they had a good chance getting shot down yesterday. Music goes on, with or without the influence of Idol. What hurts a little is that they generate so much excitement for their own purposes. They know, as I knew somewhere in the back of my head, that of those thousands of singers yesterday, only a lucky few would make it through. Emphasis on "lucky": the whole experience felt much more like gambling than it did an audition. You could tell there were a few contestants who really knew how to catch the judges eye, by sitting on the table or throwing down their hats...and MY hat is off to them, because a lot of them did make it.

Anyway, the rest of the crowd was necessary for the show material. We stood forever on the steps to the arena, for instance, saying things like "I'm the next American Idol!" over and over. Then Ryan Seacrest showed up and we had to cheer after he said some kind of introduction. I guess some people think participation like that is fun. I'm just more of the mind that I don't want my 15 minutes of fame to be used up while standing in a huge crowd. Moreover, I'm not the kind of girl who enjoys getting up at 2am to curl my hair and glob on make-up just for the chance to be one more hopeful face beaming at the camera. Maybe I'm just getting too old...

I'm not sure if I'll audition again, probably not. I feel like it was a valuable experience, in that it proved that the unlikely chance of getting through is for the small few. It showed me that I don't necessarily want to be the "STAR" everyone gets to ogle over. I want to be a rousing musician whose songs motivate people to do the right thing, and it's always more fun if you get to do that with a group of people, instead of all by yourself. Don't get me wrong--if I had made it through, I would be clinging to that ticket for dear life. Still, I'm glad for the reminder.