Voices of elder statesmen
And in breaking news, this week, American Idol begins televising the auditions for season ten. This is the second day, but it took me the night to get over the shock. No Simon. The ship has lost its anchor.
Actually, based on three hours of laid back activity from New Jersey and New Orleans (how often does a state get as much attention as a single city?), the new set of judges will do just fine, thank you very much. It doesn’t phase me that each of the judges could easily be a contestant-parent (in the case of Tyler, make that grandparent). Sometimes, youth need to hear the voice of elder statesmen.
Steve Tyler and Randy Jackson are serving as bookends to the main event: J-Lo, in living colour. She’s charming, funny, everything that Paula wasn’t. Like a breathe of fresh air. But that’s not why we’re here, is it? This is a quest for the next idol, not the best judge. And the auditions go from nadir to zenith and back again, in as many costume changes.
While the entertainment world (OK, the village in which I live) takes note of the return of AI, the various parliaments that purport to represent me are back to arguing about kirpans. Could we close this book and move on to something more relevant to the common man? If every kirpan in Canada were laid end to end, who would notice? I mean, if we can accommodate politicians, we can surely turn a blind eye to a hidden ceremonial dagger. One per client, though.
