Despite my best efforts to avoid the program in every respect, in the last few days I’ve had two unrelated Canadian Idol experiences:
First, a guy named Shane opened at El Mocambo on Thursday night; apparently he was a finalist on the show a while ago, and his cadre of middle-aged female screamers were out in full force. He’s got a reasonable voice, I’ll grant that, but reeked of the lounge-lizard banter and vocal stylings that typify the program for me.
Second, this evening I received e-mail on one of my dormant accounts soliciting votes for a current contestant so she won’t be bumped from the show this week, complete with a logoed wallpaper image so I can be advertised at all day from my very own computer screen. Thanks, but no thanks.
