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!"

Just hours later, as I sat in the inevitable L.A. traffic en route on to my first Idol/blogging experience, wanting to feel fierce and fearless, 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 20 minutes 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, kinda cool. Wait, was that Stanford from Sex and the City? Yup, Willie Garson himself, in the flesh. And then I realize: this is the most 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’s introduction of Simon Cowell’s mom — right before Mother’s Day, no less! Shame on you, Judge Judy.

I sit down next to Cara and her friend, from Orange County, who soon become my emergency informants, charged with pointing out any former Idol 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 up the audience. He’s admiring all the pretty, homemade signs that Americans 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 toward the opening moments. "Showtime, people! Places!" No one’s actually saying this, but in my head, it’s very loud. Oh, okay, we have a few minutes — time for the judges’ grand entrance! First up, Randy, who gets introduced by Bill three times before he appears. Some gray-haired, white dude manages to wander through the door the first two times Randy’s name is called. Even I know he’s not Randy. Since I’m sitting near this door, I can see that Randy’s people are motioning to those 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 about his size. Randy needs space to high-five his dawgs!

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

But wait! "Three girls and a guy," a voice announces, clearly perturbed. "Three girls and a guy," she repeats. It’s Debbie the stage manager, and she doesn’t sound all nice, like Bill. In fact, she’s downright curt, calling them "kids" and snapping at Blake: "Blake, go on the end." Pause. "Blake, go on the end." Pause. "Blake, go on the end. Can’t you hear?!" Blake finally moves to the end.

Suddenly, they’re telling us lots of things: when to clap, when to stand, when to be quiet. So many instructions. I thought I was supposed to just sit here and look good on TV. Then they tell us that each contestant will sing two songs tonight — great news! — none of that time-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-forward through. And during the breaks, I get to look out for more random celebrities and listen to that nice Bill guy.

I may not watch Idol, but I do work at EW, so I have a general 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 I see that she’s a great singer, but she doesn’t take me to the emotional places that Kelly Clarkson did in season 1, the only season of Idol I’ve ever watched.

Next up: Blake. When I see his hair and his Tiffany-circa-1987 head moves, 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’s performance of "You Should Be Dancing," I get why he couldn’t hear Debbie when she was shouting at him: his head must be a crowded, crowded place — all those beat, bop, doobie-doos. Whew! I’m tired just listening to him. This must be what it was like to see Bobby McFerrin live early in his career. Plus, he’s got these fans, they call themselves the Blaker Girls, 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’s not such an anthem, but I’m grooving to it. Still, she’s not doing what Barry Gibb just told her to do: hit the high notes! She’s singing about the "easy way," and I think LaKisha might be taking the easy way out on this one. Her syncopation’s great, but I’m not wowed.

Now, at every commercial break, the judges either parade out the way they came — Randy high-fiving folks, Simon giving the occasional thumbs-up, and Paula doling out kisses — or they all gather around Judge Judy 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 she misspells her name) gets an amazing plug from Barry Gibb, and my expectations 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 busy doing his thing, picking out children who are holding signs in the audience and interviewing them. It’s very nurturing, really. He’s found a cute, six-year-old girl who he’s decided deserves all the Idol karaoke sets he has, so she can bring them back to her class so her teacher can teach them music. "There’s no more music education in schools," Bill declares nobly and repeatedly. So true. I was president of the EBHS Chorus myself, and a member of the New Jersey All-State Chorus, 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 girl these karaoke sets. I want to jump up and confess that I’ve never written 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 nice thoughts about Bill. He’s doing so much for music education, giving the kids Idol karaoke sets. Because a karaoke set that advertises a TV show, 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 decide that Melinda is great, but let’s face it, she’s no Al Green; Blake only looks 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 a Broken Heart." I came to love this song — and Al Green — because of another Fox show, Ally McBeal. It’s a crime they can’t get the rights to all those songs so that series, starring Calista Flockhart, could come to DVD. It’s worth watching all over again! Sigh.

It’s Blake's second turn at bat, and he’s doing some Bee Gees song I’ve never heard. Oh, that’s why! Because it’s terrible. Man, he is being overpowered by the music, he’s... what is he doing? For those who watched on TV and wondered why his choreography seemed particularly spastic during part of this song, as if he were untucking his shirt midway through, it turns out that Blake’s body mic had somehow come undone and he was trying to get the tangled mess off of him. Ryan picked it up for him. Ryan seems nice.

LaKisha sings "Run to Me," and Paula tells her, "Don’t beat yourself up over that," which I suppose is Paula-ese for "You sucked," but since Paula is "nice," she can’t just say that. Too bad, really. But that’s what Simon’s for.

It’s time for the final performance of the night, and Jordin is taking on Barbra Streisand’s Barry Gibb song, "Woman in Love." With Barry declaring Jordin "one of the greatest recording artists of the future," we’re once again primed for some primo Jordin. She comes in a little strong — too strong for the song, I think, which could use a lighter 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 must say, 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. Are they too similar, though? With his creative beatboxing, wouldn’t Blake be a more interesting contender? Judging by tonight, it’s all Jordin and Melinda. But don’t worry Blake, be happy.