On the Scene: An 'Idol' virgin attends his first taping

Little did I, a non-Idol-watching editor of EW, know what I was in for when I showed up at our L.A. bureau yesterday morning. In town from New York for a rare visit with the writers, I had innocently made myself at home in Jeff Jensen’s geeked-out office (he was away; thanks, Jeff!), and was settling in to work on Spotlight, the section of the magazine I edit, when I heard Shirley Halperin’s dilemma: She had to go to American Idol and blog about it at nearly the same time she needed to be backstage at Dancing With the Stars to get some final quotes from Joey Fatone for her feature story in the next issue. I’m telling you, it’s like Sophie’s Choice, only without the Holocaust and Meryl Streep.

OK, so it’s nothing like Sophie’s Choice. Regardless, what’s a reporter to do? Call on your old high-school boyfriend/sometime editor, Ari — that’s what! (Truth be told, Shirley and I were never really girlfriend and boyfriend, but we did date for a few weeks, some — sorry, Shirl! — 20 years ago at East Brunswick High School. If only I had a photo of us back then handy. In its place, here’s a photo of the school — which, I’ve just discovered, had a massive renovation in 2001. Looking good, EBHS!)

I like to help a Shirl out, but I had some very serious concerns. Mainly, that I haven’t watched the show all season. “That’s perfect!” squealed Shirley and Whitney Pastorek (no, really, there was squealing; don’t let Whitney’s tough exterior fool ya, she’s a squealer). “You’ll be an Idol Virgin!”

“So you’re throwing me to the dogs?” I asked, aghast. I mean, I know what those blog readers are like — they’ll sniff out your weakness and pounce in a second. “Not only am I an Idol Virgin,” I said, nervously. “I’m a Blogging Virgin!”

“It’s Bee Gees night!” someone announced. I loves me some Saturday Night Fever. In fact, little-known secret about me: When I want to get in touch with my fierce, fearless side and I’m just not feeling it, I crank a little “Stayin’ Alive” on my iPod, strut down the street, and I’m good to go! I took this as a sign, and I said, “I’ll do it!”

addCredit(“American Idol: Frank Micelotta”)

Just hours later, as I sat in the inevitable L.A. traffic en routeon to my first Idol/blogging experience, wanting to feel fierce andfearless, what did I play in the car? You guessed it. Sing — or rather,strut — along with me.

Soon enough, I made it to CBS Television City where not only is Idol taped, but so is Dancing With the Stars.As I wander through a gaggle of latecomers (it does NOT take only 20minutes to get everywhere in L.A.!), I notice Masi Oka, from Heroes,and think, Man this is gonna be star-studded! Then I see Hank Azaria,voice of Chief Wiggum and other sundry Springfield citizens. Okay, kindacool. Wait, was that Stanford from Sex and the City? Yup,Willie Garson himself, in the flesh. And then I realize: this is themost motley assortment of celebrities. I love it! Who could be next?Judge Judy, of course!

Somehow, during the show, Judge Judy manages to upstage Ryan’sintroduction of Simon Cowell’s mom — right before Mother’s Day, noless! Shame on you, Judge Judy.

I sit down next to Cara and her friend, from Orange County, who soonbecome my emergency informants, charged with pointing out any formerIdol contestants. Turns out, they’re not very good at this. No matter,though. They’re nice. And Cara is wearing some camera-noticing green.Good move, Car! Speaking of nice, there’s some guy, Bill, warming upthe audience. He’s admiring all the pretty, homemade signs thatAmericans are using to symbolize our constitutional right to peaceably assemble (as I learned all about with Shirley back at EBHS).

All of a sudden, there’s a flurry of activity as we careen towardthe opening moments. “Showtime, people! Places!” No one’s actuallysaying this, but in my head, it’s very loud. Oh, okay, we have a fewminutes — time for the judges’ grand entrance! First up, Randy, whogets introduced by Bill three times before he appears. Somegray-haired, white dude manages to wander through the door the firsttwo times Randy’s name is called. Even I know he’s not Randy. Since I’msitting near this door, I can see that Randy’s people are motioning tothose in the aisle down which Mr. Jackson — if you’re nasty — will parade;they need to make more room for the man, but I don’t think it’s abouthis size. Randy needs space to high-five his dawgs!

Next up, Paula, who follows Randy’s path, delivering somewell-placed kisses. And finally, Simon, who takes a shortcut past allthose pesky fans. But maybe that’s because it really is… showtime!

But wait! “Three girls and a guy,” a voice announces, clearlyperturbed. “Three girls and a guy,” she repeats. It’s Debbie the stagemanager, and she doesn’t sound all nice, like Bill. In fact, she’sdownright curt, calling them “kids” and snapping at Blake: “Blake, goon the end.” Pause. “Blake, go on the end.” Pause. “Blake, go on theend. Can’t you hear?!” Blake finally moves to the end.

Suddenly, they’re telling us lots of things: when to clap, when tostand, when to be quiet. So many instructions. I thought I was supposedto just sit here and look good on TV. Then they tell us that eachcontestant will sing two songs tonight — great news! — none of thattime-wasting that I hated on Idol when I watched so many seasons ago.This will fly by. No annoying commercials to watch or even fast-forwardthrough. And during the breaks, I get to look out for more randomcelebrities and listen to that nice Bill guy.

I may not watch Idol, but I do work at EW, so I have ageneral idea of what’s going on. I know people love Melinda — she’s”the best singer that’s ever been on Idol,” I’m told, and with her first number Isee that she’s a great singer, but she doesn’t take me to the emotionalplaces that Kelly Clarkson did in season 1, the only season of IdolI’ve ever watched.

Next up: Blake. When I see his hair and his Tiffany-circa-1987 headmoves, I just want this guy to break into some ’80s British synth pop,like Erasure. But tonight it’s all Barry Gibb. And from Blake’sperformance of “You Should Be Dancing,” I get why he couldn’t hear Debbie whenshe was shouting at him: his head must be a crowded, crowded place —all those beat, bop, doobie-doos. Whew! I’m tired just listening tohim. This must be what it was like to see Bobby McFerrin live early inhis career. Plus, he’s got these fans, they call themselves the BlakerGirls, sitting behind me… and they won’t stop screaming! Give it a rest,girls. Please remember: I’m an Idol Virgin, and I’m old.

And here’s LaKisha, singing my song! She’s slowed it down, so it’snot such an anthem, but I’m grooving to it. Still, she’s not doing whatBarry Gibb just told her to do: hit the high notes! She’s singingabout the “easy way,” and I think LaKisha might be taking the easy wayout on this one. Her syncopation’s great, but I’m not wowed.

Now, at every commercial break, the judges either parade out the waythey came — Randy high-fiving folks, Simon giving the occasionalthumbs-up, and Paula doling out kisses — or they all gather around JudgeJudy and chat with her. I wonder what they’re discussing. Maybe this.

It’s time for the fourth singer! Jordin (pictured; no word on why shemisspells her name) gets an amazing plug from Barry Gibb, and myexpectations are HIGH! And she delivers, mostly. Jordin is great,despite the name misspelling, and so far she’s my favorite. Elegant,but still young and real, with a powerful voice and a great smile.

Also during the commercial breaks (they keep coming), Bill is busydoing his thing, picking out children who are holding signs in theaudience and interviewing them. It’s very nurturing, really. He’s founda cute, six-year-old girl who he’s decided deserves all the Idolkaraoke sets he has, so she can bring them back to her class so herteacher can teach them music. “There’s no more music education inschools,” Bill declares nobly and repeatedly. So true. I was presidentof the EBHS Chorus myself, and a member of the New Jersey All-StateChorus, and look at me now! Oh, wait, did I just get name-checked?Whoa! It seems Bill doesn’t appreciate the way he’s been portrayed on PopWatch, and he wants us to note how nice he’s being, giving this little girlthese karaoke sets. I want to jump up and confess that I’ve neverwritten anything bad about him, but then I remember my pal Barry Gibb.Fierce and fearless, Ari. I’m cool. I stay in my seat and I think nicethoughts about Bill. He’s doing so much for music education, giving thekids Idol karaoke sets. Because a karaoke set that advertises a TVshow, which itself is basically a commercial for a sugary soft drink,is very educational.

No more time for such deep thoughts. On to more important matters,like this contest. During the second round of performances I decidethat Melinda is great, but let’s face it, she’s no Al Green; Blake onlylooks like a spaz (more on that soon); LaKisha is not gonna make it;and Barry Gibb really loves Jordin!

Melinda sings a song that Al Green made famous, “How Can You Mend aBroken Heart.” I came to love this song — and Al Green — because of anotherFox show, Ally McBeal. It’s a crime they can’t get the rights to allthose songs so that series, starring Calista Flockhart, could come toDVD. It’s worth watching all over again! Sigh.

It’s Blake’s second turn at bat, and he’s doing some Bee Gees songI’ve never heard. Oh, that’s why! Because it’s terrible. Man, he isbeing overpowered by the music, he’s… what is he doing? For those whowatched on TV and wondered why his choreography seemed particularlyspastic during part of this song, as if he were untucking his shirtmidway through, it turns out that Blake’s body mic had somehow comeundone and he was trying to get the tangled mess off of him. Ryanpicked it up for him. Ryan seems nice.

LaKisha sings “Run to Me,” and Paula tells her, “Don’t beat yourselfup over that,” which I suppose is Paula-ese for “You sucked,” but sincePaula is “nice,” she can’t just say that. Too bad, really. But that’swhat Simon’s for.

It’s time for the final performance of the night, and Jordin istaking on Barbra Streisand’s Barry Gibb song, “Woman in Love.” WithBarry declaring Jordin “one of the greatest recording artists of thefuture,” we’re once again primed for some primo Jordin. She comes in alittle strong — too strong for the song, I think, which could use alighter touch at the beginning. But when it revs up, it’s all her. Ooh,was that a crack? Mmm, good, but not “greatest recording artist” good.

And just as quickly as I got myself into all this, it’s over! I mustsay, I don’t feel like I’ve missed so much not watching this season.These are four talented singers, but I’m not dying over any of them.

For my money, it’s a race to the end between Jordin and Melinda. Arethey too similar, though? With his creative beatboxing, wouldn’t Blakebe a more interesting contender? Judging by tonight, it’s all Jordinand Melinda. But don’t worry Blake, be happy.