America Temporarily Lowers Its Freak Flag

I have a guilty pleasure.

Well…to be perfectly honest I, like most others, have many guilty pleasures.

My personal laundry list includes watching romantic comedies, plucking my eyebrows (I blame the fiancé for that addiction), eating the salt at the bottom of pretzel bags, attempting to rap and/or sing along with songs in my car, crappy 90’s hip hop, Kelly Clarkson, eating a spoonful of peanut butter right from the jar, drinking milk and/or juice from the carton or bottle, chili cheese burritos, and the list goes on.

The guilty pleasure I am reference on this instance, however, is watching, and actually getting wrapped up in, “American Idol.” The human interest side of me is so weak, and I just can’t help becoming emotionally invested in the contestants as I get to know them.

Last night the contrast between the final contestants was night and day. Adam is a “dude” that wears glitter eye liner, tighter pants than my fiancé would ever dream of wearing, shoes with heels, etc… all while giving the camera a stare that gives me the heebie jeebies. Kris is a wholesome college kid that gently strums his guitar or tinkles the ivories with a grin of content on his face. Adam likes to scream at the top of his lungs, and is uncomfortable without the flamboyant. Kris has a smooth, soulful tone and seems uncomfortable in the limelight. The differences go on.

So, I was very curious which side of America would make the greatest showing last night? Was it going to be the internet/social media side of America, where freak flags are flown without hesitation, and people feel free to express wishes/desires/views they would never have the guts to share face to face? Or, would it be wholesome America that likes puppies, white picket fences, and apple pies cooling on the window sill?

It seems the 100 million votes were skewed in the favor of apple pies last night, and I was thankful. I found Adam’s voice to be slightly grating at times, and his dramatic performances and creepy stares to be too much. It sure was interesting to see how America felt though.

Now that Idol is over, it’s right on to yet another guilty pleasure, this one far more embarrassing that American Idol. Last year, I’m sorry to admit, my fiancé got me hooked on another Nigel Lythgoe creation, “So You Think You Can Dance.” I never really had much appreciation for dance, but something about that show caught me. It got so bad last year that on the way in to work one morning after an episode I started visualizing what moves would go with a song I heard on the radio. Man, I really hope none of my male friends read this… my man card will surely be revoked!