You're (walking) to Hollywood

Mostly 'live' as American Idol hits LA (or vice versa). And, actually, it's Pasadena. They replay Katharine McPhee's Somewhere Over the Rainbow, as they do their whole LA intro thing. Olivia Newton John is the guest judge; I like her, good voice and seems like a decent person. Oddly enough, no song clip from Grease.

Start with a ridiculous Latino guy, in some weird getup. He can do some really interesting moves, all panther-like; seems violent. Stalks in, throws his clipboard on the stage, does some weird move to start--flings everything off one by one before, shirtless, he crawls up to the judges; then does his crazy quick moves. Simon finally says can we just get on with the singing. He's totally in his own word. Fox should let the public vote on one wildcard entry to Hollywood. Guy's got a dream, shows Ryan at the end his book of songs.

Some Barry White wanna-be; reminds me of those nutty Darrel/Tarrel brothers from last year. Seems a bit nuts, but maybe he can sing; doing if Ever You're in My Arms Again. Can't sing... belts it out. Randy's astounded at how off-key he is. ONJ doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Two bad Asian Americans in a row, then a third (in a banana no less, represent!) Next Marianna Riccio, who they say is talented. Her mom sang with Dean Martin; ugh, I don't really like her much at once. Ugh, I don't like her voice at all--her whole thing is so mannered, too much belly showing, and has weird facial expressions. She seems to think if she begs and really wants it--she keeps repeating I'm on my knees--it's make a difference; totally begs, it's ridiculous. Says please like a million times, it's pathetic; you can't feel bad for her, she's so crazy. So her mom goes back in with her and pleads with the judges, it's so nuts. Simon says he likes Mum, she was foxy.

Segues into a bunch of people begging. Very different vibe than Birmingham; people out here are pushy and demanding and ultimately pathetic. Alaina Alexander, a blonde who I like right away--just more open, vulnerable, and humble-seeming. Definitely not originally from LA; her last shot she says, otherwise will give up. Nice classic green outfit; and although she's nervous, controlled, then powerful voice. Simon says that was really, really, etc. good; Randy says pitchy, but good; they all put her through. And she's polite at the end, have a good rest of the day.

Next, some Asian American chick who's comparing herself to Taylor; she says her mom told her you're not quite tv pretty, let's face it you're no Katharine McPhee. Okay... I mean, she's no Katharine, but Katharine's no--well, anyone of a lot of people. Simon purposely mispronounces her name multiple times; and you wonder how the British lost their empire so quickly. She's horrible--a lot of misguided, sincere energy; then finishes by saying she's sorry. It's painful watching her--she really should go do something else, doesn't seem nuts, just lost. ONJ says do this for yourself, then realize singing's not your thing; impatient Simon cuts her off as she's asking to sing again. Her mom's with her and Ryan afterwards; he's very nice to her, actually, as she says her dream is over--but maybe I'll be back next year. Well done, Ryan.

Brandon Rogers, a good-looking, confident black guy who I like right away, has a gentle vibe to him (reminds me of Denise's husband on the Cosby Show, same sort of slightly rotund affability coupled with a bit of spaciness). Always on My Mind--and wow, what a beautiful tone; slow and soulful and heartfelt. A bit pitchy at times; but overall, very good. And he can hold the notes--Paula is just smiling from ear to ear; OLN sighs at the end. Simon says you're by far the best we've seen today; I can see you making the finals, good likeability (which we share, Simon says). I felt you in my heart, says ONJ.
Next, Brian Miller, who last year lost in Hollywood round. Doing Change is Gonna Come--it sounds familiar for some reason. Big voice--but for some reason I'm not that crazy about him; he looks earnest, seems nice but I feel like his eyes are a bitt too intense. Simon says forgettable voice, Randy and the other say why not. Seems almost perfunctory.

Next, Sherman, who's old--64. His 'lady love of 20 years' died of cancer a couple of days ago; he put together a petition to get on the show, says she used to light up when he came back every day with more signatures. He tears up talking about it. He tells Simon he doesn't want sympathy. He sings You Belong to Me for his lady. Hey, his voice isn't bad--it's nice to listen to, and I'll bet nobody interrupts him. Wish some of the real contestants could be this sincere. Simon gently says thank you very much after an appropriate time; they all shake his hands or hug him; nice. See, this show really isn't mean.

So 21 other people made it out--on day 1 alone. Wow. Why would you audition in LA-- too many good people, less chance of getting airtime. Back, judges are talking up LA. Two contestants who are dating. They seem to have a good relationship, on similar speeds, there's obvious devotion there, seem to have a lot of fun together (and a lot of kissing). They show her--Sparkles--saying they're gonna get married (?). Can't sing, no big surprise. Sincere though. Randy's cracking up as she sings something to Simon, I guess. Ryan's talking to her devoted boyfriend outside, as they show her inside 'flirting' with Simon. Boyfriend goes in; Simon tells her she was flirting with me. He seems more realistic; but can't sing at all either. There's some deep psychology going on here, he sings a song about his girl finding another and going away. More canoodling between the two at the end.

Only 6 minutes left in the hour, apparently not a lot of good people showed up on day 2. Hmm, maybe the good people in LA all hustle? Some idiot guy to close out, blonde and dumbly self-centered. 4 to 5 hours a day, using programs that taught him how to sing, he says. Ugh--high-pitched and ridiculous. But no sense of self-awareness. The kind of guy who sarcastically says 'okay...' when he doesn't get it but thinks it's you. They keep trying to get him to sing lower; he keeps singing crazily, like Bob Dylan in hell. Simon realizes this guy had been teaching himself to sing using Randy and Paula's DVD, so he calls him back in, while Randy and Paula try to shoo him away, it's hilarious. Good attention to detail, Simon.

19 more people made it out, 40 in all. And none of the finalists that they showed were Asian American--wow. Next week, last audition stop, San Antonio.

To amuse myself during the non-forwardable commercials, I did some quick web searches and found out that the LA audition took place on August 8. Here are the other actual 2006 audition dates:
-San Antonio, August 11
-New York (NJ), August 14
-Birmingham, August 21
-Memphis, September 3
-Minneapolis, September 8
-Seattle, September 19

The television broadcast schedule is here; interesting that they switched the broadcast dates for LA/San Antonio, I wonder why.

Birmingham marches awry

There's nothing worse than thinking you have two hours of American Idol ahead of you, and discovering the show was actually just an hour. Oh well; Idol's in the South again, this time Birmingham--let's see if it can top Memphis, which sent 22 (but unlike Birmingham can't boast it's produced Ruben, Bo and Taylor).

First up is some blonde chick from Auburn... oh-oh, she thinks cause her song choice of Unchained Melody is one of Simon's favorite he won't give her any trouble if it's bad.... Ugh, she shouts it--off-key. Outside her blonde compatriots are pleased so far. Simon calls it "never-ending torture", to which she asks if she can keep it up and try another song, launching into one over the vehement objections of the judges. It's actually funny; she keeps singing, and is surprised that SImon hates it. Has that vacant valley of the dolls look. Simon learns from his compatriots as she walks out that when you brush your shoulder at someone it's not good.

Katie Bernard, who has a high-pitched speaking voice (like Paris); singing a House is Another Home, which I like. And she can sing--in an interesting way, like deep at parts, sortof soulful throughout, I like her. Plus I like her personality. Paula says interesting audition, Katie apologizes, Paula's like don't be so fast.... Randy wants her through; Simon says no; up to Paula--who says you just got married, you should start that life. So Katie pulls in her husband (who's also wearing red); Katie yammers on, but Paula puts her through, to annoy Simon. Ha! What fun. Reminds me of Kellie a bit, but not as good.

Hmm, short commercial breaks tonight. Next is Tatiana McConnico, who's a singing student. Good song choice, strong voice--and good singing attitude. Someone who just straight-out can sing. Problem for me is she's like the dozens of other good young african american female singers who never quite make the top in the eyes of Idol voters.

Another contestant from Atlanta, Diana Walker, who's large now but says she was a cheerleader in high school (as the base of the pyramid). I like her, the way she talks; she's confident but respectful. Does Whitney--a strong, gospel-influenced voice, but I just don't really enjoy listening to her, too much intake of breath. Judges are cracking up; her version is a bit over-the-top. Oh well; too bad.

Short commercial breaks, short segments. Back with Bernard Williams II, who will definitely make it--clean-cut good-looking guy, nice vibe. 'Rock with You' by Michael Jackson; melodic, fun. Simon says very good; Paula is shocked--great tone, but completely off key, says no (hmm, this never happens). Simon lobbies for him, says he has potential; Bernard says 'dawg' to Randy, and he's through. Hmm, interesting.

Back with some big girl all in yellow, they do the expected Big Bird thing. Hmm, so far every contestant but one has been black; this one's a caricature of oblivious. She claims to be 26. Hey, her voice isn't bad--gospel-like, she actually has a nice tone. Too bad she's past the age limit and is acting like a clown. She admits being--33? Then 50! SImon says she was atrocious, which I disagree with.

Two (quick) contestants, then some commercials. Day 1 coming to a close already. They briefly show some white chicks making it through. Next, this year's Kellie Pickler--big accent, blond, attractive, lives with grandma, daddy's paralyzed; but I don't feel the same instant likeability yet I did with Kellie. Says his wife was cheating on him, he caught her, shot her, then hit himself. Okay.... Jamie Lynn Ward; hmm, a good voice. Bit uncontrolled and almost too big, but definitely potential--she just needs some training. Paula says it's very pretty, nasally at times but when you're relaxed it's nice; Simon says actually I agree with what Paula just said. Randy and Paula send her through; Simon says he'd have said no. Ugh, she does this little preening dance at the end.

Some idiot with big curly hair, Chris Sligh. He says he sees Christina Aguilera (not Jack Black) when he looks in the mirror. He's so self-centered and deluded it's not even funny, trying to be funny. Kindof an interesting speaking voice though... singing isn't bad, actually--Paula is like, What?! Nice pace, nice compellingness to it. Hmm... I'm actually enjoying listening to him sing Kiss From a Rose, there's like a hushed quality to it, good tone. Paula really likes him, Simon looks a bit shocked. Randy says he likes him too; on he goes. Wow, one of the more unlikely people to make it through to Hollywood. He displays a bit more self-awareness afterwards; who knows, maybe I'll wind up liking him more.

Day 2, only 20 minutes left--and Paula apparently had to ditch for a family obligation. Some chick with super-long hair, 6-feet long, 4 inches taller than her. Her mom's been growing her hair since she's been 29. Seems nice, has a gentleness to it; ugh, then is sharp when she's getting her mom in, won't let her bring her glasses. Someone who's likely to go nuts when she's mad I think, like Kathy Bates. Hey, she can sing though--it's a very old-fashioned singing voice, does Raise Me Up; like something you'd hear in a Shaker church. She could totally be like in the 18th century. Simon doesn't like it; Randy says it was just okay. Oh well, would've enjoyed seeing her interact with kids today. Sure enough, she freaks out with her dad at the end, hyperventilating in anxiety or something.

Some bad people; some preternaturally calm woman who's probably nuts--sure enough, a horrible voice but loud as heck. Gosh; Simon asks what the hell was that. He's a bit mean to her I think. They show clips of people politely saying thank you even after Simon rips them. Hmmm, I like this segment, even though I think they're mixing and matching judges and reactions.

Back, montage of nutty supporters and their homemade signs/shirts/buttons. Focus on Nichole Gatzman, whose 'team' all wear pink t-shirts; she actually seems like a nice person, with a decent speaking voice. And hey, she can sing! Husky voice, Something to Talk About; good pacing, nice tone. Simon says she's old-fashioned and sings through her nose, it's a shame. Randy doesn't think she's ready now, but tells her to come back--oh, too bad. You know, in previous years she'd have made it at least to Hollywood.

Finish up with some crazy chick who talks waaaay too much and has a big head. Oh-oh, Like a Virgin; which is a notoriously hard song to sing, the pacing is not at all intuitive, non-standard word inflection is important, and everyone has Madonna's version in their heads. She starts fighting the comments immediately, actually says maybe it was the floor or something--humoring her Simon says try the carpet, while muttering Brandy, you are barking mad aren't you. It's funny, they're not that harsh, more making fun. She doesn't get Simon's sarcasm that the carpet made a huge difference, he goes on an extended comedy bit about how he can't believe everyone else tried singing on the floor. At the end she goes on a rant, says Paula's even better than you all anyway; maybe it's the two guys dynamic.

Simon walks outside as she's ranting to Ryan, she complains about him, then calls Randy a faker. It's actually very funny, she's pretty quick on her feet; then makes fun of Simon when he tries to return using the wrong door. This is cracking me up--then she starts swearing at Randy, so it turns ugly.

So 20 people got out, two less than Memphis. Nobody that I really liked tonight; partly because the segments were so short. There was a lack of energy tonight--maybe because Paula was missing for the entire second half. She adds an unpredictability, and Randy and Simon especially often play off her. Fox really has hit upon the perfect mix of judges.

Next is Pasadena, which should be good. They close with Brandy's extended rant on previous contestants, and anything that comes to mind. She's what people down south call crazier than a runned-over dog.

Rare pig baby

You never know what (or who) you're going to stumble across in the Times wedding pages. This Sunday, I learned this, for example.

Amanda Morley Boyd and Duncan An-Shea Yin were married last evening in Brooklyn. The Rev. Ron Sala, a Unitarian Universalist minister, officiated at the Palm House of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. ...

The bride is a descendant of William Bradford, a governor of the Plymouth Colony. ...

“All my life I wondered what kind of person chooses to get married when it’s freezing outside,” Mr. Yin said. “Now I know the answer: a man who proposes to his girlfriend too late to reserve a reception venue the following summer.”

Then they stumbled on an auspicious fact: Jan. 27 falls in the Chinese lunar leap year of 4703, which continues until Feb. 17. The current Year of the Dog is considered particularly conducive to weddings because it contains two lunar springs, a phenomenon that foretells a happy marriage and that has occurred only 11 times since 221 B.C.

“When I found out that Duncan and I were going to be married in the luckiest year possible, I thought, ‘This is so perfect, it’s so Duncan,’ ” Ms. Boyd said. “He is just the sort of person on whom fortune seems to smile, and I feel fortunate to be along for the ride.”

Looks like Ms. Boyd is not the only one upon whom fortune will smile; In China, All Signs Point to Wedded Bliss, proclaims the Wall Street Journal (via Creaders.net; with the subtitle Zodiac and Lunar Calendar Smile on Happy Couples;'We Can Have a Pig Baby'):

The extra-long year is a very uncommon event, tied to the complicated system used to keep lunar timekeeping roughly in sync with the solar calendar. The last one occurred in 1944, five years before the Communist Party took control of the country. People seem to have decided that the rarity will magnify the good fortune of the double spring.

Adding to the pressure, the years on either side of 2006 are considered exceptionally unlucky since they have no lunar spring. They are known as "widows' years." Many people believe women married in those years will lose their husbands at an early age. Marriage registrations in Shanghai were down nearly 20% last year.

Then there is the zodiac, which in Chinese culture holds that one's birth year helps determine his personality and prospects. This is the year of the dog, which is widely viewed as good for marriage. Next year is the year of the pig, which is seen as a time when fortune smiles on newborn babies.

The upshot of all the signs is that China is facing a demographic jolt as marriages that would have been spread over three years are being concentrated into one. At the same time, a significant spike in births is expected next year. Nielsen Media Research says it has already detected a surge in advertising for diapers and baby food on Chinese television and in magazines and newspapers.

"I've never seen anything like this," says veteran wedding planner Xu Hongliu, who has handled more than 100 weddings so far this year. "It's causing severe shortages" of everything from disc jockeys to photographers. Prices for roses and lilies have climbed as much as 30% in Shanghai's markets as demand has increased, she says.

Of course, the obvious question is when's the next double lunar spring year?

Uncredited photo of Yin and Boyd from the Times.

Minyan and eggrolls

The Times takes a look at the latest Brooklyn hotspot--an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood: In the Wee Hours, Worship and More

Michal Lando: At 10 o’clock on a recent Thursday night, the corner of 53rd Street and 13th Avenue in the heart of Borough Park was bustling with traffic. In this neighborhood, an ultra-Orthodox stronghold for the past decade, a sea of religious Jews clad in traditional black and white garb scurried in every direction for late-night prayer, shopping or something to eat. This corner of Brooklyn never sleeps, or so it seems.

The main attraction is Congregation Shomrei Shabbos, a 24-hour synagogue where a service begins every 15 minutes. What started more than three-quarters of a century ago as a tiny congregation has grown into a mainstay of this community: transit hub, soup kitchen, community center, bookstore and prayer hall all in one.

The late-night traffic generated by the synagogue has spilled onto the streets, so much so that over the past few years a neighborhood has literally grown up around it. Restaurants and stores are open long past midnight. Peddlers vie for street space in the wee hours. Religious music streams from a small boombox. Men stop their cars in the middle of darkened streets to announce the birth of a child.

A boombox playing religious music? Cars stopped in the middle of streets to herald the birth of a child? It's quite a piece, closing with this:

Thanks to all this activity, the once-inconspicuous synagogue is now a trigger for local nightlife.

“Real estate surrounding the synagogue is in high demand,” said Mendy Handler, owner of Cellular 4 Less, one of several local businesses that stay open past midnight to attract late-night synagogue-goers. His busiest hours are from 6 p.m. to midnight. “People can drop off their phones to be fixed while they are praying next door,” said Sol Oberlander, the store’s manager.

Other businesses have followed suit. Copy Corner stays open until midnight, as does Gal Paz, a music store. Sub Express, a kosher fast-food restaurant whose menu includes what is described as a unique “brisket egg roll,” keeps its doors open until 1 a.m.

Another popular outpost is Deli 52, which on Thursday nights serves two variations of cholent, a traditional Sabbath stew of beans, meat and barley, until 4 a.m. The late-night cholent attracts crowds of men, who often stay and schmooze until the morning hours, a somewhat controversial activity among the ultra-Orthodox, who pride themselves on not wasting time with idle chat.

Oh no--ultra-Orthodox Jews don't believe in chit chat?! How will their non-Jewish neighbors ever get to know them?!

Maybe--in the interest of society of course--the government should force them to give up their religious beliefs?

Famed (or infamous) photo of Emo Nussenzweig by Philip-Lorca diCorcia, found in various places online.

Suburban bliss

The Times' Andrea Elliott writes another in her string of arresting front-page profiles of Muslims in the New York area, A Cleric’s Journey Leads to a Suburban Frontier.

Sheik Reda Shata pushed into Costco behind an empty cart. He wore a black leather jacket over his long, rustling robe, a pocket Koran tucked inside.

Mr. Shata and his family enjoy Middletown’s tranquillity, a sharp contrast to their old Brooklyn neighborhood. Outside their new home, which is next to the mosque, he lingered with his young son, Mohammed, and his daughters Esteshhad, left, and Rahma.

The imam, a 38-year-old Egyptian, seemed not to notice the stares from other shoppers. He was hunting for a bargain, and soon found it in the beverage aisle, where a 32-can pack of Coca-Cola sold for $8.29. For Mr. Shata, this was a satisfying Islamic experience.

“The Prophet said, ‘Whoever is frugal will never suffer financially,’ ” said the imam, who shops weekly at the local store and admits to praying for its owners. He smiled. “These are the people who will go to heaven.”

Seven months have passed since Mr. Shata moved to this New Jersey suburb to lead a mosque of prosperous, settled immigrants. It is a world away from Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, where he toiled for almost four years, serving hundreds of struggling Muslims for whom America was still new.

His transition is a familiar one for foreign-born imams in the United States, who often start out in city mosques before moving to more serene settings.

For Mr. Shata, Middletown promised comfort after years of hardship. He left behind a tiny apartment for a house with green shutters set amid maple trees and sweeping lawns. He got a raise. He learned to drive.

But the suburbs have brought challenges that Mr. Shata never imagined. His congregation in Brooklyn may have been on the margins of American society, but it was deeply rooted in Islam. Muslims in Middletown were generally more assimilated but less connected to their mosque.

To be a successful suburban imam, he found, meant persuading doctors and lawyers not to rush from prayers to beat traffic. It meant connecting with teenagers who drove new cars, and who peppered their Arabic with “like” and “yeah.” It meant helping his daughter cope with mockery at school, in a predominantly white town that lost dozens of people on Sept. 11.

It's a great article, of course; the audio slideshow, narrated by the imam, gives it another dimension. And the closing paragraphs--wow.

One afternoon this month, a yellow school bus with mechanical problems pulled into the mosque’s parking lot.

The imam had just finished the afternoon prayer and was leaving the mosque. Eagerly, he walked up to the bus, his long robe flapping. He wondered if his daughter Esteshhad might be onboard.

As he drew closer, he saw the children pointing at him and laughing. He struggled, in English, to offer the driver help, but she politely declined. He searched for his daughter. It was not her bus. Relieved, he walked away.

For Esteshhad, life had been hard enough, he thought. After attending an Islamic school in Brooklyn, she is now one of only two girls who wear head scarves at her public middle school. She sits alone at the front of her bus. In the cafeteria, she eats by herself.

“They keep thinking I’m weird,” she said. “I feel weird, too.”

She hears about sleepovers and trips to the mall, but she has yet to experience these things. Her mother cannot drive, and Mr. Shata is reluctant to chauffeur his children until he feels safer in the car.

Outside school, Esteshhad’s only other contact with her peers comes at the mosque. But even there — where some girls carry designer bags — she often feels left out.

One night this month, she sat slouched on the edge of her bed. If only she had a cellphone or an iPod, she said, she might have friends.

“I have friends,” her 7-year-old sister, Rahma, piped up.

“You don’t wear a hijab,” Esteshhad shot back.

Recently, her mother noticed that Esteshhad had forgotten parts of the Koran. She was also becoming more assertive.

A sign outside her room read, “Please knock before entering!” and then, in smaller letters, “I’m angry.”

Esteshhad’s mother has thought of enrolling her again in an Islamic school, but Mr. Shata is reluctant. He wants to give public school a chance. Still, it pains him to see Esteshhad so alone.

When asked how he would respond if Esteshhad stopped wearing a head scarf, the imam thought for a moment. Such a scenario, for him, would have been unthinkable in Egypt.

“I would try to convince her and I would find 1,001 ways to her heart,” he said. “I hate aggression. The Prophet, peace be upon him, said, ‘Teach, don’t humiliate.’ ”

Teaching, for the imam, also means learning. He will learn as he goes, he said, with Esteshhad at school, with the teenagers at his mosque.

It is a path he began in Brooklyn. To live an Islamic life in America, he said, requires a curious mind and a strong heart.

Mr. Shata tries to bring both to his youth group every week.

Only 11 young Muslims came to the first meeting in October. Now, the imam looks out at a room full of faces.

“Sixty and counting,” he said.

Like anyone else of integrity and goodness, Imam Shata is not what you might think he is. He's the kind of person who you want to converse with, hear about his experiences, listen to his views; things like this make sense about him:

Every Friday, a dozen of Mr. Shata’s former Brooklyn congregants began appearing in Middletown to hear his weekly sermon.

“Maybe he’s here in body, but his soul is there,” said Amgad Abdou, an Egyptian driver who came every week, his limousine full. “He’s like the Statue of Liberty, part of the skyline. He’s part of Bay Ridge.”

What great quotes; what telling details, the perfect story arc.

It does make me think Elliott's fingerprints are sometimes a bit too apparent in her articles; but that's probably because when it comes to Islam, non-Muslim Americans still need their hands held a little.

Photo of Imam Shata and his young son, Mohammed, and his daughters Esteshhad and Rahma by James Estrin for the Times.

Personal rennaissance

An interesting Times profile about Ennio Morricone--whose work in The Good the Bad and the Ugly (the flute, the horns), Once Upon a Time in the West (the harmonica) and Cinema Paradise I've always liked--and a funny/telling quote:

The Maestro of Spaghetti Westerns Takes a Bow, Jon Pareles: For many filmmakers through the years, a certain kind of pilgrimage to Rome leads to the opulent parlor of the composer Ennio Morricone. It’s the place where he has discussed grand concepts and crucial details, and often unveiled new themes on the piano, for the distinctive film scores he has written over the past four decades, from “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” to “The Mission.” There are more than 400 of them, though he hasn’t kept count.

Next Saturday Mr. Morricone, 78, makes his long-overdue American concert debut with 200 musicians and singers at Radio City Music Hall. It is the beginning of a triumphal month in the United States that will also include festivals of his films at the Museum of Modern Art and Film Forum, and the release of a tribute album, “We All Love Ennio Morricone” (Sony Masterworks), with performances from Bruce Springsteen, Renée Fleming, Herbie Hancock and Metallica, among others. On Feb. 25 he will be presented with an honorary Academy Award for lifetime achievement, atoning for past omissions. After five nominations, he has never won.

Massimo Gallotta, the promoter who is producing the concert, has been working for more than a year to present Mr. Morricone’s American debut. “It was strange for me that Morricone had never performed here in the past,” Mr. Gallotta said. “He agreed right away. And then I was lucky about the Oscar, the CD, everything.”

Mr. Morricone has given concerts periodically in Europe, including a December performance that drew 50,000 people to the Piazza del Duomo in Milan. At Radio City he will lead the 100-piece Roma Sinfonietta orchestra, along with the 100-member Canticum Novum Singers.

Everyone except Maestro Morricone, as he is called in Rome, considers him startlingly prolific. Along with his hundreds of film scores, he has composed a sizable body of concert music like “Voci dal Silencio” (“Voices From the Silence”), a cantata he wrote in response to “the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11 and all the massacres of humanity all over the world,” he said. He will be performing that work on Friday at the United Nations, at a concert welcoming the new secretary general, Ban Ki-moon.

“The notion that I am a composer who writes a lot of things is true on one hand and not true on the other hand,” he said in an interview at his home, speaking in Italian through a translator. “Maybe my time is better organized than many other people’s. But compared to classical composers like Bach, Frescobaldi, Palestrina or Mozart, I would define myself as unemployed.”

There's a lot more in the article, including an interesting section on how he works and what he leaves out; but that quote jumped out at me.

What makes some talented people prolific, and others not-so-much? It's gotta be more than just organizing your time--right?!

I'd say a key element is your work can't seem like work, it's got to be something you love to do, perhaps even need to do. You have to set up a framework where time plus effort leads to results. And you have to be in a field where measurable output is possible.

I think it also helps to work with, or be around, other productive people. I noticed the Times' audio extra featuring five of Morricone's works, Yo Yo Ma plays two of them. Ma, for me, has always seemed the epitome of productivity; he's involved in so many projects, all stemming out of his mastery of the cello but many no longer directly related. That's another prerequisite, you need to work in a field where you can be productive on various levels and in different ways.

But probably above all is you have to be totally dedicated to one thing, and do it well. Everything stems out of that.

Uncredited photo of Morricone found online.

Massively destructive

So there's an interesting Times piece currently leading the website,
Iranian Reveals Plan to Expand Role in Iraq

James Glanz: Iran’s ambassador to Baghdad outlined an ambitious plan on Sunday to greatly expand its economic and military ties with Iraq — including an Iranian national bank branch in the heart of the capital — just as the Bush administration has been warning the Iranians to stop meddling in Iraqi affairs.

First, what's with the headline? Imagine if it were about the German ambassador to Poland--German reveals plan to expand role in Poland?

Second, wow, reveal--the Iranian ambassador reveals! In an--interview.... Wow, holy sleuthing, Times!

Third, imagine the shock! shock! if the Times discovered that Germany had an interest in ties with its neighbor. Imagine if the U.S. told Germany how dare you claim you have the right to influence your neighbor. Imagine if the U.S. told Germany to stay out of what we do to your neighbor, it's none of your business.

Sheesh. There's been a spate of article lately about how the Bush administration seems to be beating the drums for war with Iran, much like it did with Iraq. (I actually don't believe the administration has any thoughts of going to war with Iran--it's not a winnable war, for one thing; the administration's simply trying to get the most out of its blustering and threats).

Maybe someone should be writing articles about the Times' take on Iran. Where's Maureen Dowd when you need her?

Finding the future

The Times is blogging from Davos--although judging from the paucity of comments nobody knows; so here are some tidbits:

This week, Andreas Heinecke, the head of Hamburg-based consulting firm Dialog Im Dunkeln, has been invited to Davos to try out his unorthodox management-training methods — which Bloomberg describes as involving a “pitch-black sensory deprivation chamber” — on the likes of BP’s chief executive, John Browne; Coca-Cola’s chief, E. Neville Isdell; Mr. Schmidt of Google; Citigroup’s chief, Charles Prince; and Daniel Loeb, the head of the hedge fund Third Point.

The purpose of this exercise, Mr. Heinecke explains, is to challenge business leaders with an unpredictable environment where they must accomplish tasks without relying on “ego and physical presence.” Bloomberg writes:

Heinecke says the [World Economic Forum] is the ideal spot to consign some of the world’s most influential people in a 70-square-meter (753-square-foot) room, where they must deal with the consequences of forfeiting power and control.

I think it'd be funny if when the lights went on all the CEOs were dead except for one.

A Chinese television news anchor, Rui Chenggang, has brought his campaign against the Starbucks coffee shop in Beijing’s Forbidden City to Davos.

Last week, the evening television newsman for the state-owned Chinese television network CCTV — an English-language 24-hour news network — touched off a firestorm of controversy by calling the Starbucks location, in the ancient home of China’s emperors, an “insult” to Chinese culture.

At a press luncheon here in Davos on Wednesday, he appeared stunned by the reaction to his attack, which he launched in a blog entry. Although his evening newscasts often have an audience far in excess of 100 million, he said, Mr. Rui, who spent last year in a academic fellowship at Yale, said nothing he had done on Chinese television had resonated as widely as the blog posting, which has now attracted half a million readers and over 2,000 responses.

Not all of those responses, even those coming from China, have been positive. One Chinese news site had taken to criticizing him, referring to him as “Lord” Rui.

Despite the controversy, Mr. Rui, a World Economic Forum veteran and one of the organization’s Global Leaders of Tomorrow, said he had no intention of backing down. At a dinner Tuesday night, he said he had spent time lobbying San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom to support his polemic. – John Markoff

An audience "far in excess" of 100 million?! Are you kidding me?! The top-rated U.S. newscasts at best have around 10 million viewers--that'd be a rounding error to Lord Rui. Who on the side, according to his bio, also writes a column for Beijing Youth Daily, "the most widely read newspaper in Beijing."

My gosh, sometimes you forget how much bigger everything is in China, until you stumble across something like this. He has an interesting personality; here's his list of "Unforgettable Moments":

Successful walking back home all by myself when I was still in Kindergarten
Passing the College Entrance Exams without ending up in hospital

Failed the calculus final in college, have been having nightmares of that until today

First time being hailed as a great karaoke singer

Found out my dog was the biggest fan of Madonna in China

First time anchoring business show on CCTV International, with the make-up that resembles Dracula and the hairstyle of a highway bandit

First time interviewing a senior business leader, the Chairman of Royal Dutch/Shell, Sir Mark Moody Stuart, pretending to be as old as he was.

Finally understanding the essence of new institutional economics, thanks to Prof. Douglas North

Receiving the award of Global Leader for Tomorrow in Davos, Swtizerland, from Prof. Schwab

The successful fundraiser for Project for the Blind, Tibet

Yeah, if I were Starbucks, I'd close the store and ask Rui to join my board of directors.

There has been great debate in recent months about whether the conflict in Iraq can accurately be called a civil war. Iraqi Vice President Adil Abdul Mahdi offered his view Thursday in a panel discussion at Davos chaired by Richard N. Haass, president of the Council on Foreign Relations.

At the session, Mr. Mahdi dismissed the notion that his country is in a civil war, saying instead that it is facing “a war against civilians” that “targets the whole society.”

At another point in the panel, Mr. Mahdi called the occupation of Iraq an “idiot decision.”

Adnan Pachachi, a member of the Iraqi Parliament, said that while there is “room for improvement” among Iraq’s security forces in terms of their training and equipment, “the main thing is really their loyalty to the Iraqi state.” The forces, he said, must be purged of “infiltrators.”

I'm glad one of Iraq's vice president, who owes his job if not his life to us, feels free to call the presence of our troops an "idiot decision".

I wonder how many days he'd last if us idiots went home?

Demonstrators are usually kept far from the action at the World Economic Forum in Davos, where security measures include barricades and barbed wire.

In the virtual realm, however, it is a different story. During a series of interviews conducted in the online universe of Second Life — in which a digital persona of Reuters’ Adam Pasick questioned the digital personae of various Davos attendees — a man carrying an anti-Davos placard apparently sauntered right into the virtual auditorium.

On its Davos blog, Reuters reported Friday that the interloper was Iuemmel Lemmon of the protest group DaDavos. His avatar, or online personality, sported a beard and what looked like a blue beret.

Did virtual guards leap up to eject Mr. Lemmon from the scene? Hardly. Reuters said that he “sat politely with his banner in the front row.”

There's a funny if small screen grab of the event; and the original Reuters article refers to the avatar 'conducting' the interview as Adam Reuters.

That'd be a hell of a future... 'Hello, nice to meet you, I'm John McDonalds, you must be Kimberly Disney.'

Uncredited photo of Rui found online.

Moptop invasion

Every so often you pick up something without an understanding of what to expect. It's harder to do nowadays, with the hype machine picking up full blast anything that shows even the barest hint of promise--so unless you see something before anybody else, or are there when there's just the rawest of potential, by the time you're watching or listening or reading, you already know what to expect.

Unless, of course, you go backwards and don't do a google search beforehand. Which is how I came across the documentary of the Beatles' first trip to America, .

The film, it turns out, was done by the Maysles. The film shows all their trademarks--they get faces and small details, even if that means the camera is jerky, the only music and sound is ambient (if you don't like shrieking, you may want to skip this...), and the clips are edited non-smoothly. It's truth, at the expense of prettiness.

My favorite moments:

-The funny Beatles poster in the radio station, with their heads mounted on an album cover and moving like a bobblehead doll

-Walter Cronkite's voice as CBS reports on the Beatles coming to the U.S.; funny hearing him do a 'pop culture' piece--which appropriately runs at the end of the show, right before he intones, "And that's the way it is, Friday, Feb. 7, 1964."

-Ringo Starr, looking and acting like Tim's character from The Office; he's got the ability to detach, leading to a look in his eyes sometimes like he's not even there

-The New York press jostling and yelling to get them to pose in more interesting ways in Central Park

-The Beatles calling in to 1010 WINS (back before it went all-news), with Paul McCartney calling it WINS, Winston Churchill.

-Funny how much time they seemed to spend just hanging out in the hotel room, messing around with each other, always with the radio on

-On the famous Edi Sullivan show appearance, Paul and George's crazy eyebrows; the way the show's captions identified each of them in turn by first name (under John's name it read Sorry girls, he's married)

-Shaking it as they danced at the Peppermint Lounge, to the music of a black band

-Aggressively clowning around with the press on the train to DC

-Ringo rocking out as he sang I Wanna Be Your Man in DC, on an odd stage where they were in the middle surrounded by a totally bonkers crowd

-Ed Sullivan hosting his show from Miami Beach, and the Beatles playing new material in front of a nearly shriek-free crowd; after which Ed told them Richard Rogers ("who's one of America's most famous composers") had wanted him to tell them that he was one of their most rabid fans

-The band struggling to pack everything into their luggage (before stars had people for that kind of thing)

-The married John not being around much

-Sullivan's speech before the 3rd and final Beatles show, about how great their conduct has been; by the time he stepped in to insert "The Beatles!" with a jerk of his arm before their last song, you could easily imagine him quitting his day job and going on tour with them--this most enigmatic of figures seemed to just beam when he was with them

What a fun thing to watch. I think there's too much irony today for something like the Beatles to sweep through again. American Idol at its best might approach it; but I've never seen people as excited as they were to see the Beatles, it was almost like they were Japanese in their lemmingness.

Their tour of the U.S. took place in the depths of winter just a few months after JFK had been assassinated, so maybe the country was actively looking for a break. You forget what it's like to not have tons of tv channels, music everywhere and the internet at your disposal.

Plus, pre-baby boomer revolution everyone had all this pent up energy and emotion, and it was really only via shows like Sullivans and concerts that people could let it out collectively.

Hence, all the shrieking.

Uncredited AP photo of the Beatles with Ed Sullivan via CBC site.

Inside the insanity

As I've written before (and here as well), Gilbert Arenas is great. His blog is even better. I mean, how often do you get to read posts like:

ESPN The Magazine Took Me Off the Cover
I Missed That Game-Winner vs. Boston
Hello, This Is The Hibachi Speaking
I Was Fouled Against Chicago

The best part? His blog properly credits the photos he uses!

Getty Images photo of Agent Zero by Mitchell Layton

Kick 'em

There's an article in the Times' magazine that shows the best and the worst of America. As always, it's the kids who are caught in the middle. Refugees Find Hostility and Hope on Soccer Field

Early last summer the mayor of this small town east of Atlanta issued a decree: no more soccer in the town park.

Members of the youngest Fugees team, from left, Jeremiah Ziaty, Grace Balegamire, Qendrim Bushi, Josiah Saydee and Santino Jerke and Coach Luma Mufleh celebrate Josiah’s 13th birthday at the Saydees’ apartment in Clarkston, Ga.

“There will be nothing but baseball and football down there as long as I am mayor,” Lee Swaney, a retired owner of a heating and air-conditioning business, told the local paper. “Those fields weren’t made for soccer.”

In Clarkston, soccer means something different than in most places. As many as half the residents are refugees from war-torn countries around the world. Placed by resettlement agencies in a once mostly white town, they receive 90 days of assistance from the government and then are left to fend for themselves. Soccer is their game.

But to many longtime residents, soccer is a sign of unwanted change, as unfamiliar and threatening as the hijabs worn by the Muslim women in town. It’s not football. It’s not baseball. The fields weren’t made for it. Mayor Swaney even has a name for the sort of folks who play the game: the soccer people.

Caught in the middle is a boys soccer program called the Fugees — short for refugees, though most opponents guess the name refers to the hip-hop band.

The Fugees are indeed all refugees, from the most troubled corners — Afghanistan, Bosnia, Burundi, Congo, Gambia, Iraq, Kosovo, Liberia, Somalia and Sudan. Some have endured unimaginable hardship to get here: squalor in refugee camps, separation from siblings and parents. One saw his father killed in their home.

The Fugees, 9 to 17 years old, play on three teams divided by age. Their story is about children with miserable pasts trying to make good with strangers in a very different and sometimes hostile place. But as a season with the youngest of the three teams revealed, it is also a story about the challenges facing resettled refugees in this country. More than 900,000 have been admitted to the United States since 1993, and their presence seems to bring out the best in some people and the worst in others.

The Fugees’ coach exemplifies the best. A woman volunteering in a league where all the other coaches are men, some of them paid former professionals from Europe, she spends as much time helping her players’ families make new lives here as coaching soccer.

At the other extreme are some town residents, opposing players and even the parents of those players, at their worst hurling racial epithets and making it clear they resent the mostly African team. In a region where passions run high on the subject of illegal immigration, many are unaware or unconcerned that, as refugees, the Fugees are here legally.

“There are no gray areas with the Fugees,” said the coach, Luma Mufleh. “They trigger people’s reactions on class, on race. They speak with accents and don’t seem American. A lot of people get shaken up by that.”

Photo of members of the Fugees soccer team in Clarkston, Ga. by Nicole Bengiveno in the Times

Kramer's dream

Why do I like Deadspin? Well, this post pretty much sums it up--it's funny, but also telling: Welcome To Negro Bowl I!

This will keep me honed in on the stories of most importance as we head into the big game, because we all know this game is not about horses and bears. Or Peyton Manning cementing his legacy against a defense that was vastly overrated even before their best player was lost for the season. Nor is it about watching T-Rex (T stands for Terrible, of course) gross us out with his Philistine approach to the art of quarterbacking.

No, this game is about NEGROES. Of course the NFL playing field always runneth over with black people, but for once we're also running the show. This is what the urban marketing folks call "Cultural Synergro." Who'dathunkit? Quick Pop Quiz for you: Excluding the QB's, name two white position players on either team. Three... Two... One.... No, Marvin Harrison doesn't count. See, I told you: It's Negro Bowl I baby!

The user comments, extensive as always, tell you much about the state of the all-important white male american psyche.

Graphic from Deadspin

Panda-monium

So, really, all I need to say is China is asking the public to help them name 18 baby pandas--as the China Daily's headline reads, Love giant pandas? Name them.

(I saw the posting via Gothamist, whose editor extraordinaire Jen Chung is a known panda-addict).

Oh, and the website has photos of all 18--I can't emphasize how great the photos are--as well as little biographical tidbits. Basket girl's, for instance, reads:

Female, born on August 25th, 2006
Mothers name: Hua Hua
Birth weight: 121.2g
Current weight: 8.2kg
Features: weaker than her brother Panda No. 11, she has an oval face, is slim, has an open personality, and other pandas the same age like to play with her.

I think Fox should buy the rights to the show; I mean, all they'd have to do each week is show video of baby pandas, it'd be like the 5th-ranked show on tv.

Photos of pandas #11, 12, and 17 via China Daily.

Habla hysteria

The sign tells you right away Pizza Patron's not your normal fast-food chain. Just how special it is comes out in Texas-based pizza chain accepts pesos, takes heat.

It's startling to me that people who are bigoted against immigrants care so much that they'll spend time and energy going after an entrepeneur like this. What the hell do they care how a fast-food joint accepts payment?

Maybe these haters should instead try and contribute to this country.

Chicago Tribune: A pizza chain has been hit with death threats and hate mail after offering to accept Mexican pesos, becoming another flash point in the nation's debate over immigrants.

"This is the United States of America, not the United States of Mexico," one e-mail read. "Quit catering to the ... illegal Mexicans," another said.

Dallas-based Pizza Patron said it was not trying to inject itself into a larger political debate about illegal immigration when it posted signs this week saying "Aceptamos pesos"--or "We accept pesos"--at its 59 stores across Texas, Colorado, Arizona, Nevada and California.

Pizza Patron spokesman Andy Gamm said the company was just trying to sell more pizza to its customers, 60 percent of whom are Hispanic.

Wal-Mart, H-E-B supermarkets and other American businesses in towns along the Mexican border accept pesos. Some businesses in New York and Minnesota along the northern border accept Canadian dollars. ...

The company said it has received hundreds of e-mails, some supportive, most critical.

While praising the pesos plan as an innovative way to appeal to Hispanics, a partner in the nation's largest Hispanic public-relations firm said a backlash was inevitable.

"Right now there's a lot of anti-immigrant rhetoric going around that could make them a lightning rod," said Patricia Perez, a partner at Valencia, Perez & Echeveste in Los Angeles.

Pizza Patron proclaims on its Web site that "to serve the Hispanic community is our passion." Its restaurants are in mostly Hispanic neighborhoods, and each manager must be bilingual and live nearby, said Pizza Patron founder Antonio Swad, who is part-Italian, part-Lebanese.

Is this the American dream, or what?! Immigrant starts an innovative small business which fulfills a need and becomes a national chain; comes up with a twist, draws fire, perseveres, and before you know it everyone else is copying the idea.

At least that's how I hope this story ends.

Pizza Patron sign photo via Austin Chronicle

Apple of our eye

American Idol in 'New York'--like the Giants and Jets, actually they're in East Rutherford, New Jersey, but they never reveal that. Watching on tape a day later; they open with people guessing how many contestants show up--they never give an actual answer, but lots and lots.

With guest judge Carol Bayer Sager; who's apparently a singer-songwriter who's won an Oscar and Tony. A Groovy Kind of Love being her most famous work--oh, and That's What Friends Are For, with her then-hubbie Burt Bacharach. First up is some weirdo with a bad (and a whole lot of) attitude who's already been on So You Think You Can Dance, cursing out Simon Cowell's Brit cohort on that show. There's a funny segment where they show him talking to people on the street and nobody cares who he is or what he says. This guy didn't sing, and is just here for the pub; so I won't give him anymore (although at times he's a bit funny).

Okay, Simon does call him rubbish--he starts yelling at Ian; who yells back before security tells him to leave; Ian starts yelling about Simon being a Brit and it's not his country and he wants to see his work visa. What a sad, pathetic guy.

Next, some teen with a slightly odd nose from Ohio whose parents don't know she's here, Sarah Burgess. She starts crying talking about how her dad doesn't believe in her. Aww, poor little girl. She crys again talking to the judges. Hey--she can sing! A very Broadway-ish voice, but good tone and unusual maturity; I like her. Simon says you don't have the greatest voice, but you're a try-er; Randy likes her voice too, as does CBS--Sarah starts crying again. You kindof have to pull for her, she seems so sincere and cares a lot. They show her calling her dad; on speakerphone--it's actually pretty powerful, her dad says just get home safe. My Gosh, she's totally the early favorite now, you can't make this stuff up.

Some Greek chick next, I doubt she'll be any good. And she isn't, just weird--no real self-confidence, either. Next an interesting one, Ashanti, who's made it to Hollywood twice before already and is trying again. Hmmm, didn't know you could. To get ready says she's been eating six times a day? Whaat--her voice isn't any good, very fakey. How'd she make it twice before? I'm pretty surprised; it's pitchy, and hard to listen to. Bad song choice to boot. They all pass, odd. Then she starts pleading. And goes on, and on; they play some soap opera thing behind it, it's actually very apt. She's actually not a bad public speaker. She says if America got a chance to see me, they'd love me--Simon says well, these three are Americans, and they don't. My gosh, talk about the long goodbye--she tries singing again, says more on her way out, Simon ends it finally.

I'm getting annoyed at the editing, which shows all NYC scenes juxtaposed with scenes of the line in N.J. Back with best friends from Jersey, who are attractive in that 'takes them careful hours of preparation each day to look like that' way. Best friend #1, Amanda Coluccio goes in, then is encouraged to bring in best friend #2, Antonella Barba with lesbian joking by the judges. They do a duet, as Simon says it was a bit of a mess. Amanda doesn't have much of a voice; does Crazy--good song choice for her voice, it's not bad. I don't think she's very good; oversings, doesn't flow; everything is deliberate. Randy says not bad; Simon says generic; Paula wants to send her on. Simon says he couldn't care one way or the other, says yes. CBS same, Randy says got some work to do; why not.

Antonella sings, she's better, but really--neither are anything special, nor do I think either is that attractive. CBS likes her look a lot, they send her on. It's all about the bff story here; I do like how Antonella sticks up for her friend. There's lotsof hugging and whatnot. Antonella doesn't tell her friend judges said she maybe be untrained, but is better.

Odd, so far no zip to this episode--it's NYC, should be more energy somehow. Maybe cause people are pretty intense so far. Some laconic guy does noises; I don't think he's any good. Simon laughs wildly for no apparent reason. Starts shouting out some ZZ Top. Good stage presence, actually; just no singing skills. Pulls out harmonica after judges ask for another song... uh, okay. Yo, gotta sing at least a little.

Show a bunchhof no's; apparently trouble finding a good guy. Funny, that's what a lot of women say about the city.... Show more no's; Randy and Simon crack up laughing at some androgynous guy. Last day 1 person, Kia Thornton, can sing--does Ain't No Way; controlled, slowed, and good husky voice with power. Just confident and performed well--she's like a pro, this is what she does. Simon says wow, this girl can sing, sending her into tears. He's like you don't need me to tell you that, it's obvious; a great audition. CBS says don't oversing; you're wonderful. Paula likes her, and of course Randy too. Wonder what her back story is; she could be a contender. Outside she falls on the floor, kneeling and hugging Ryan.

Day 2 underway--why do they always show the judges pulling up? Simon apparently skips out on the start; Henry Bejarano first. Already you can tell he's good--adopted by Bolivians in NY at the age of 1, good-looking tall black guy. Has the self-confidence, without arrogance, seems very sweet. Wow, he's gonna be a good story; too bad Simon's not here for this. She's got Paula before he even starts singing--and he's good, amazing he's just 16, has a lot of self-possession. Just a pleasure to listen to, not amazing, but very good. Paula says she's surprised, so young but good, easy on the eyes; CBS says you've got something special; Randy likes him too. Just hope he doesn't fall in with the wrong element in Hollywood, as Randy says stay humble. His family's all there, it's very sweet, actually. Wow, a lot of good stories out of NYC.

Gotta balance the good with the bad, of course; some jumpy fat black woman next, it's like she's drank 10 cups of coffee. Gosh, I just wish one time one of these people like this turn out to be good. Hey--she has a pretty decent voice! Eh, a bit pitchy, but a fun song, Dancing in the Street, and has good energy. A hard one, if she was hot she'd go through, but as it is it's a bit goofy. So then she sings a slow song, not as well. CBS nails it--she's pretty perceptive; first song fun, we went with you; second song we could hear all the pitchy problems. So she fails; even though she sang better than the sisters. At the door she says she has a lotof people who she can't let down. She's gonna be mad when she watches the show and sees the sisters. Lotsof tears, and big sadness afterwards. Ah, she's devastated; "I just wish I could change their mind." Not melodramatic, just very sad; "you get tired of hearing no, and it's not just singing."

Next contestant supports her, but she turns out to be totally flaky, with a red cowboy hat. Sings so out of tune it's not even funny, although the judges do crack up. CBS asks her just straight out do you in your heart really think you can sing; she says no, I'm not a singer. They ask why are you here then; she says her friends make fun of her cause she's tone deaf; is actually rude with Randy. Does that thing crazy people do where they talk deliberately and enunciate even as their eyes are bugging out. Says even if I can't sing I can be the next American Idol--you can teach me. My god, she's so deluded and self-centered and nuts. She says you don't really have to sing to be an American Idol; so weird and a total waste of our time. Hostile too--she has mental issues I think, or an astonishing sense of entitlement. Starts screaming at the camera, then going off on the other contestants, she's definitely mentally unbalanced.

Simon shows, some doofus in a fedora doing New York, Ny. He's 47.... Can't sing, doesn't even pronounce it New York, sings it New Yorr. Next, someone who I instantly think is good; Jory Steinberg, originally from Canada. Has met some heads of state, unknown why. Interesting giant brooch. She can sing--something I'd never heard before, Chains; a different type of voice, wow, suddenly nails the high/loud part. Simon says that was terrific, paced it well; Paula says very professional; and of course on she goes. I like her. Does a funny little jig in celebration.

Some crazy chick from Queens next, who says she's completeley militant when it comes to preparing for the audition, gets up at 5 to work out, lost like 20 pounds. Says it takes a certain type of attitude, a New Yorker to deal with it. Dresses trashily with a bunch of bracelets; no good I'd say. Hmm... Porcelana Patino, again, isn't bad--a very mannish voice; ugh, ok, not as good now. But Paula says you're pretty awesome, at first I thought you were peculiar; CBS likes her, says you're unique; Randy says yes too. She actually turns out not to be cocky, is moved that they picked her; group hug with everyone but Simon. I like her, actually--she really wanted to do this, and did.

It's very interesting, New York is turning out to be the strongest show, and also the most surprising. Makes sense, I guess; that's the way the city is. Odd clips about people's names and the judges messing them up. Simon especially seems to like screwing them up. The clips aren't all from NY, which makes it ever weirder. Some guy who looks like George Michael, and a bit like Simon. He has a good look, actually, and seems cool. But can't sing--howls, actually. Very bad broadwayish. Simon tells him he should be singing in a dress and stilletos. Randy says sing some Barry White. Simon rips on Paula for giving him advice that's not related to the competition; she actually swears at him, then gets up and tells him he's a bad boy. Poor Paula--then she goes off on him afterwards for being mean to someone who's standing there being vulnerable.

Some teen chick who's from Manhattan (emphasis), New York. Starts yelling as she walks in. Rachel Zevita--ugh. Can't sing, overdoes everything. Her voice is probably not much worse than that Mikaleh chick from a couple years ago, but not as interesting of a personality. Does another song after CBS surprisingly says she likes her, I thought it was better; then does some horrendous opera at Randy's request. I can sing anything, she says. This is a very odd one--they put her through. Which I don't think is good, she's already got a huge ego; does say the South has had a lockdown on AI, this year it's New York. I do agree with that, but in her case I don't think there's enough there there for her to last.

Show Ryan dancing like a fool with a bunchof contestants to some tribal-style music. Clips of bad people singing (or shouting) All Night Long; including some Kermit-like guy. Christopher Richardson, who we know from the tease is interesting. I like him, he has a humble, nice vibe. Wow, and he can sing--powerful, nice tone. Pleasant to listen to, good pacing, very sincere. I could see him doing very well. Carol is totally in synch with the judges, they all like him; Randy makes comparison to Justin T-lake, Paula says you're very special. Simon says you could surprise us in the next round, could do better. On he goes; sortof your average white guy in some way, Paula thinks girls will love him (3 of them hug him outside).

Back with scarily bad and painful singing. Nicolas Pedro, who last year quit during Hollywood week, couldn't remember lyrics. He says there hasn't been a day that's gone by since that he wasn't haunted by it. Good look, seems like a good guy, says he now sees himself as a singer; says he doesn't wanna be remembered as the guy who quit, he tried. Fly Me to the Moon--ah, I remember him, a very good tone that sucks you in. Very sincere. Paula is just beaming. CBS says I think you're wonderful, Randy yes, Paula yes, Simon yes, he beams. Good story, I like him.

Back with someone idiotic and sloppy--what's the deal with cowboy hats this year. She apparently sings on sidewalks in NYC. Hmm, seems to be having a breakdown before she starts singing. Too much jangling of bracelets, although she sings poorly too, so.... Some weird song, not really lyrics so much as moans and noises. Pretty crazy, actually; like a Hare Krishna on a bad acid trip. Funny, afterwards she says sometimes when she sings she can get arrested. She's very spacey. Odd.

Wow, 35 people made it out of New York. It's by far the strongest round, and so many different kinds of winners. Lots of enthusiasm from them and their supporters. Wow, line of cabs are waiting to take them out of the arena, that's gonna be a high fare.

Next week--Birmingham. A lot of good talent out of there historically.

Imagining the world

Before the web, 13 photographs that changed the world wouldn't have been nearly so interesting.

For one thing, it probably would never have been written--back in the dark ages, ordinary people didn't publish. Second, you probably wouldn't have seen all 13 photos along with the article. Third, there wouldn't have been hundreds of
interesting reader comments.

So there really should be a 14th photo; maybe a screen grab of this page.

1946 Gandhi photo by Margaret Bourke-White

Memphis brings the goods

American Idol goes to Memphis, cradle of Elvis/B.B. King/Beale Street. Where apparently over 16,000 people showed up to try out.

They start with a college student, Frank Byers, who brings an entire marching band, along with cheerleaders. If nothing else they should hire him to help market the show. He can sing decently; not a great voice, but strong--he does Heard It Through the Grapevine, which Simon hates; so he busts into another song. Both Randy and Paula say he may have shot in the future. He then leads his own cheer outside; then they burst into song, until Simon asks them to shut up.

They go to break with the ultimate tease--Simon saying "I'll be amazed if you don't make the finals" about a contestant. Hmm--have we found this year's Paris/Chris? Back with some bad chick, who has staring eyes; totally in a world of her own--just sits and looks, not much activity upstairs possibly. She sings in a high-pitched voice, almost like someone singing along to a Jew's Harp--there's a very country quality to her; Simon says he couldn't understand anything she sang. She sings another song despite being told it was pointless.

A white guy in torn jeans and a freaky voice does a whacked-out version of Stevie Wonder's Superstitious, which Simon also doesn't understand. More bad people who you can't understand and who have no shot. I just keep waiting for this great singer.

And then... he comes. Sundance Head; big guy with hippie parents and an intereseting beard. His dad was a singer; the guy has some sortof presence. Reminds me of the big guy from New Orleans last year who got cut early but who I liked. Good attitude; and--a nice, deep, powerful, controlled voice. I like listening to him; like he came outof gospel and the blues. Paula likes him, Randy too; Simon too. I don't think he's unbelievable, but he has all the ingredients to make top 12.

Wandera Hitchye--also has a good bluesy voice. Kindof a weird look, with odd hair and outfit; but she can sing. Judges, though, say there's nothing special, or next level--she asks for one more try, but Simon says no. Odd, in Seattle or Minneapolis I think she'd have gone on; she's totally mad afterwards, pushes the camera--so maybe they did make the right choice.

A bunchof quick no's in a row, including Paula telling someone it was "too desperate". Then, Travis McKinney, a nice-looking guy who keeps building up his song as being so emotional. Okay.... My gosh; starts with an insane martial artsy dance; and his song is not at all emotional, it's like some bad skitzo rap. That was crazy, says Randy. Boy, he's totally deluded; and some chick tells him to try again next year.

Some blonde chick, Danielle McCulloch, who I don't believe will be any good. But she's not half-bad; a bit country, Paula seems into it. Plays with the lyrics a bit, always the sign of a good singer. Paula calls her an old soul; Randy says it was okay, Simon agrees but likes her bluesy voice. Paula and Simon say yes, on she goes--she's okay, I agree with Randy that she won't be around long. Watching her afterwards, though, when she says Oh, I can do this, makes me think maybe she's one of those level-headed contestants who learn fast and makes the most of what she's got, surprising everyone.

Day 2, and they show everyone hugging Paula. Some geeky guy who loves Paula is first up. He's hobbitish, actually; his wife cheated on him, he forgave her, she said she wanted to keep messing around, so he told her to leave. He anticipates her wanting to come back when he wins AI.... Simon zeros in on his wife leaving him. Does ridiculous version of Footloose, like he just learned it yesterday; complete with some rote moves. Simon says he's tempted to ask if he sang that the night before your wife left. He disses Paula a bit at the end.

Some floozy in a low-cut dress next, who says her shades are important to her, her confidentiallyity. She spews out a list of adjectives she thinks the judges will apply to her, some of which contradict (sexy and conservative) and none of which apply. Bad vocals, some entertaining dancing.

A guy who looks like Castro (or Osama or Jesus, he says); Sean Michel has a gentle, humble nature. I like him, actually--very good vibe. But he can't sing that well, unfortunately; does some Christianity-infused Johnny Cash song. Paula says you have a nice tone to your voice; shockingly both Randy and Simon like him too, and they send him through. Anyone who doesn't think the judges respect pure musical ability (of which I'll freely admit they're much more adept at identifying than I am!) will be hard put to explain this decision. He's definitely the most unlikely person to make it through to Hollywood this year.

Back with Melinda Doolittle, who is a professional backup singer. I like her, she has this interesting cap on and seems eager without ego; a bit nervous, but husky, forthright speaking voice. Doing Stevie's For Once in My Life--a good version of it, pure tone to it. I totally like her; you gotta root for her, like the perfect song choice. Paula likes her, Randy wonders if she can grab the spotlight; Simon says unlike everyone else you come in with no confidence, no attitude, but you're a "brilliant" singer. Says she has a great voice, gotta work on your stage presence, but loves her--as do the other judges. And she's got friends outside to cheer wildly (always a good thing).

Find some idiot who thinks he sounds just like Elvis. Not gonna dance, he says, just gonna do a 'movement.' Robert Lee... he tells the judges he sings, dances, and writes stories. Has confidence, but no voice. Movement consists of raising his index finger vertically. More bad people, none of whom can sing Elvis. Including some guy who finishes by pulling a towel out of his pants zipper.

Back with a guy whose wife gave birth this morning. I like him; has a good look, cracks up the audience while talking to Ryan. Says the baby's more important to him, he's bummed about missing out. Doing My Girl, dedicated to all three of his girls. Philip Stacy. I like his voice--high, but controlled; pleasant to listen to. Randy likes him; Paula wanted to hear something else--so he does, and sings it well too. Simon doesn't think so, Randy and Paula do. there's some bickering; but he goes on to Hollywood. He runs off to go home.

22 people made their way out of Memphis; makes sense, the South is always strong for AI. And they close with Philip and his wife and daughter and newborn--wow, what a great show.

Next is New York (actually, East Rutherford, N.J.). Wish they had a full 2 hours for Memphis, but I heard some politician gave a speech tonight--in front of, for the first time, Madame Speaker?

Applauding Mutombo

I never thought I'd see the day when Dikembe Mutomobo was honored during a president's State of the Union address.

For those of you not familiar with the story of one of the premier shot-blockers of our time, Mutombo is a basketball player known for his ferocious defense; he played college ball at Georgetown and with a series of NBA team, and is currently undergoing a late-career renaissance filling in for the injured Yao Ming in Houston (maybe Bush will honor Yao next year?)

Mutomobo is also one of the premier humanitarians among professional athletes--he's built out of his own pocket a number of hospitals in his native Congo; based on a 60 Minutes interview I saw I conclude he's actually politically-savvy and not just a blowhard (unlike most athletes who pontificate on matters not related to their sport), and my guess is he'll run for president of Congo when he's done with basketball.

He's also got some interesting quirks; he used to be known for wagging his freakishly-long index finger at opponents after one of his prodigious blocks, and while in college supposedly would go to parties and bellow in his deep voice, "Who wants to sex Mutombo?"

Although I'm not sure I believe that--it seems like something people too easily believe about a big foreign black guy, not knowing he got degrees at Georgetown in linguistics (he speaks more than 6 languages) and diplomacy.

At any rate, here's what President Bush said of Mt. Mutombo:

When America serves others in this way, we show the strength and generosity of our country. These deeds reflect the character of our people. The greatest strength we have is the heroic kindness, courage, and self-sacrifice of the American people. You see this spirit often if you know where to look -- and tonight we need only look above to the gallery.

Dikembe Mutombo grew up in Africa, amid great poverty and disease. He came to Georgetown University on a scholarship to study medicine -- but Coach John Thompson got a look at Dikembe and had a different idea. (Laughter.) Dikembe became a star in the NBA, and a citizen of the United States. But he never forgot the land of his birth, or the duty to share his blessings with others. He built a brand new hospital in his old hometown. A friend has said of this good-hearted man: "Mutombo believes that God has given him this opportunity to do great things." And we are proud to call this son of the Congo a citizen of the United States of America. (Applause.)

Here's a list of some other athletes deserving of presidential recognition:

-Family Values Award: To Portland Traiblazers cagers Zach Randolph and Qyntel Woods, whose self-described Hoop Family activities consists mainly of beating people down at strip clubs, fighting dogs to the death, and in one case combining the two when Randolph yelled 'Get him, dog. Get him' at Woods as he beat on a guy at a strip club.

-Philantrophy Award: To wide receiver Terrell Owens, whose nutty, selfish, team-hating behavior has kept sports journalists and radio talk show hosts gainfully employed in San Francisco, Philadelphia, and (at the moment), Dallas. Close runner-up is Mike Tyson.

-Just Say No Award: To all of Major League Baseball--not just for steroid usage, but for amphetamines use, which is so commonplace that they're called 'greenies' and until very recently were kept in big jars in dugouts; former player Ken Caminiti, among others, told Sports Illustrated: I would say there are only a couple of guys on a team that don't take greenies before a game. One or two guys. That's called going out there naked. And you hear it all the time from teammates, 'You're not going to play naked, are you?'

-Community Service Award: Cincinnati Bengals; out of a total roster of 53 players, 9 players have been arrested in 9 months (I guess this should be community service/jail award). ESPN has even created a game where you have to match players with their crime (which ranges from Spousal battery to Unlawful transaction with a minor to a bunchof alcohol/drug charges.

-Dogged Digging Award: To investigative reporter Carl Monday and a mustachioed Ohio State University fan, for teaming up to star in one of the funniest and most jaw-dropping news reports I have ever seen. It's worth watching all the way to the end; and the comments on sports blog Deadspin are just classic.

Uncredited photo of Mutombo and his hospital's sign found online.

Starts with a sandwich

New Yorkers get typecast as rude and uncaring, but in my experience they're pretty willing to help people who are really in need (and not just fumbling or rude).

When I saw the story about a family that was searching for a missing man over the weekend, I feared the worst--but it all turned out okay--with some very typical Daily News quotes:

Lost in city's jungle: New immigrant Damon Mootoo had been in New York for less than a day when he faced one of the city's toughest challenges: navigating the confusing streets of Queens.

Mootoo spent five long, cold days wandering Jamaica after he got lost during a walk and was too intimidated to ask strangers how to get home. Mootoo, 32, was rescued yesterday by a kindhearted churchgoer who spotted him shivering on a Queens street and gave him food and water.

"I want to go home," Mootoo said last night after his stressful misadventure. "I'm thinking about going back to Guyana."

Mootoo got lost Wednesday, less than 12 hours after arriving in New York for the first time, when he left his brother's South Jamaica house to stretch his legs.

He was being treated last night at Jamaica Hospital for the dehydration and frostbite he suffered in the frigid air.

"When we saw him, he was just crying," said Mootoo's brother Mark Miller, 43. "He said, 'I'm glad to see you.' "

When Mootoo left Miller's two-story house on 152nd St. Wednesday morning, he wasn't wearing gloves or carrying an ID.

Miller said Mootoo had recently received his permanent resident card and was excited about starting a new life in America.

"He said he was trying to find his way back," Miller said. "He said he was just walking all over. He was scared. He heard all the stories about New York."

Mootoo, who is hard of hearing but can communicate in English, told relatives he didn't want to approach a cop because he feared he'd be deported.

He survived by begging several homeowners for water, but he was too ashamed and shy to ask for food or directions back to 152nd St., Miller said. At night, when temperatures plunged into the low 20s, Mootoo slept in an abandoned car or sought shelter from the snow under a piece of wood in a stranger's yard, he told relatives.

Meanwhile, his panicked kin posted flyers with Mootoo's picture across South Jamaica and formed search parties.

"We were thinking the worst after so many days," Miller said.

But just when hope was fading, Michael Bharath, 37, was walking home from church and saw Mootoo near his house on 142nd Place at Rockaway Blvd. "He looked in desperation," Bharath said.

Bharath's wife, Cynthia, made Mootoo a sandwich. Feeling secure, Mootoo told them his situation.

Michael Bharath asked if he had anything with his relatives' address written on it. Mootoo dug in his pockets and found a piece of paper with his stepmother's Foch Blvd. address. Bharath drove him there and reunited Mootoo with his worried family.

"When I see people in need, I try to help them," Bharath said. "He was in need, and I'm pretty sure that within a couple more hours he would have been a dead man."

There's another story out of Beijing that reminds me of a Chinese proverb about water vs. rock.

China phone thief repents after 21 text messages: A Chinese thief has returned a mobile phone and thousands of yuan he stole from a woman after she sent him 21 touching text messages, Xinhua news agency said on Monday.

Pan Aiying, a teacher in the eastern province of Shandong, had her bag containing her mobile phone, bank cards and 4,900 yuan ($630) snatched by a man riding a motorcycle as she cycled home on Friday, Xinhua said, citing the Qilu Evening News.

Pan first thought of calling the police but she decided to try to persuade the young man to return her bag.

She called her lost phone with her colleague's cell phone but was disconnected. Then she began sending text messages.

"I'm Pan Aiying, a teacher from Wutou Middle School. You must be going through a difficult time. If so, I will not blame you," wrote Pan in her first text message which did not get a response.

"Keep the 4,900 yuan if you really need it, but please return the other things to me. You are still young. To err is human. Correcting your mistakes is more important than anything," Pan wrote.

She gave up hope of seeing her possessions again after sending 21 text messages without a reply.

But on her way out on Sunday morning, she stumbled over a package that had been left in her courtyard only to discover it was her stolen bag. Nothing had been taken.

"Dear Pan: I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Please forgive me," a letter inside said.

"You are so tolerant even though I stole from you. I'll correct my ways and be an upright person."

It would be interesting to see where the people in the two articles are in a year.

Uncredited Damon Mootto photo from the Daily News

Feeling a little Japanese

Interesting article in today's Post about Scott Fujita, a player on the New Orleans Saints.

William Kalec: At Rock-N-Sake, a sushi bar in New Orleans's warehouse district, the edible homage to Saints linebacker Scott Fujita consists of crawfish and tuna rolls coupled with avocado sauce and is stacked like a pyramid. For the fifth-year journeyman linebacker who was traded by Kansas City and let go by Dallas without much of a free agent fight, the namesake dish and local cult-hero status is an honor offered with this disclaimer: "I don't want to get all sappy or anything, but . . ." Fujita said. ...

Fujita eventually stood out from the no-name group thanks to the unintentional marketing genius of cornerback Mike McKenzie, who called Fujita the "Asian Assassin" on the Sept. 25 "Monday Night Football" lineup roll call. In that same game against the Atlanta Falcons, a national audience watched Fujita deliver a Samurai bow (a tribute to his adoptive father, Rod, who is of Japanese-American decent) after sacking Michael Vick.

He's bowed before, several times actually, but the move was never copied by Pop Warner linebackers around town. And he's never had a sushi roll named after him. And he says it was six weeks before he had to buy his own drink in New Orleans.

What the hell is a Samurai bow?

Uncredited Fujita photo from the New Orleans Saints website.

Rained on

Based on personal experience, Seattle has more weirdos per square mile than any other city in America, so American Idol auditioning there should be 'good'. Hour 2 is live, hour 1 from tape.

Rain, of course. And--Uncle Sam, who wore his cop uniform last year. I remember him--very cheesy. But not a horrible voice, actually. Oh god, doing God Bless America. Is bad, is dismissed, again.

Some deluded fat girl next, claims to go by The Hotness. Just looks unlikeable. Tries to sing with gum in her mouth. Is wretched. Wants to keep on going. Gets into it with Simon, keeps being defensive. Tries to sing another song. Paula's encouraging her; sings over the judges telling her to stop. Simon tells her to get a job down at the port.... She does the obligatory swearing at Simon afterwards, says he probably listens to that back-country sheep stuff. What a hostile woman.

Next, some Asiatic chick who says her husband wasn't supportive of her, that she's wasting her time. We know from the promo that she's no good, even though she seems soft-spoken and not a total weirdo. Breaks down talking about her son; I feel bad for her, has some self-esteem issues. Does Christina, very badly. Earnestly, but it hurts to listen. I think Paula's into false hope this year more than ever, is beaming at her. Says she's sick, gets water--no better, of course. Tone-deaf says Randy; she seems nice, but is deluded. They're being pretty mean to her, except for Paula. Simon shouts NO at her after she sings another song.

Some clips of very bad people; including a truly scary guy who shouts DIE, DIE, DIE. Next some crazy Texan chick with odd white hair. She says her look is sexy--she looks like she's wearing a shimmery sack. She looks a lot like her mom, who's also weird. Simon keeps quite as Randy and Paula mess with her a bit; he actually usually doesn't participate when it's obvious someone sucks. His is an odd cruelty, with its own rules--he generally doesn't beat up on the defenseless, tends more to go after the jerks. Her mom comes in at Randy's invite, goes on and on. Don't Cha--my gosh. No, says Simon. Tries to launch into Sweet Home Alabama. Randy gets the mom back into the picture, but they're kindof sweet in their cluelessness. Blame it on the nerves....

Rain coming down, maybe it's washing away the talent? A montage of people being denied. Then, Thomas Daniels, who from promos we know is good. Afro, has got some sortof confidence. Slept outside to audition; third time in 4 years auditioning. Hmm, has a very sweet voice--how did he get denied before?! Just has a nice quality to the voice. Mmmm, a little off-key on the high parts, but nice and mellow overall. I could see him doing well, not a natural top 12 but could get there if he doesn't self-destruct. They send him through, first one outof Seattle. His fam's pretty excited (wife?! has same hair), Ryan's got their little dog. If Simon and I ever have a baby, this is what it'll look like, crack Paula.

Another dog with another contestant, who I don't believe will be good. Weird outfit; very weird, like big pink tights on her arms and legs. Not a bad speaking voice though. Ugh, I don't like her before she sings, is crass.... Randy starts singing 'I love big' and she rips off the rest of Sir Mix-a-lot's lyrics. It's a no, of course; she's not any good. Her friends are all there, quite a motley crew. Simon's still talking about her afterwards, says it looks like she'd been caught in a net. Hey, wait a minute--I don't think she was wearing tights.....

Some kid with a Ryan-like hairstyle, Blake Lewis. Seems like an earnest nice guy; says he's a beat box champ. Not horrible, but not my cup of tea. I don't think he can carry a tune--good energy, but off. Simon, however, says you're good, maybe not as good as you think. Paula says you're good; Randy likes him too, but wrong song. They send him through, I don't think he'll do anything. His dad, a blue collar type of guy, is very proud afterwards, almost crying--his son says his dad is his inspiration, the hardest-working man in Seattle. Hmmm... nice kid.

Ryan's starting to rip on Seattle. Show some idiots; including some nerd in a shirt and tie who is loud but is like that awkward teen clerk they always show on the Simpsons. Afterwars he says it's been a major wake-up call for him.

Then a brother and sister team, Indian-Americans, their dad is a classical Indian musicians. They both seem like nice kids, big smiles--and she's attractive (he is too). They have a fun dynamic. He's confident--confident but foolish, she says laughingly. Has a good vibe to her, good energy. Shyamali Malakar... she can sing, does Summertime. Just a good audition; big voice, no self-consciousness to her, but nervous Paula says. Nothing unique, nothing different, very pretty says Simon. Randy says good voice, need to find yourself. They send her through; she shows some spunk with Simon.

Her family goes nuts, and she hugs her bro for good luck. He tells Randy he doesn't think he's better than his sis. Sanjaya--he has a good voice too, does some Stevie Wonder. Has a big smile, a good luck--and total likeability. Like his sis, not afraid of pauses in the song. Simon says you're a lot better than your sister; she has the stage presence, but you have the better voice, you're a shy little thing. Out he comes--yaaay. Someone to root for, both seem really cool, and have fun with each other.

Some kid they've been promoting as super-nerd. Self-taught musician, typical computer guy who's missing some social awareness. Has a robotic weirdness to him, very nervous. What makes you the next American Idol, asks Paula. I am a leader, he says. When asked what makes him unique by Simon, he says he doesn't really have a good answer for that. Does Unchained Melody. It's very interesting--like each note individually seems to have been worked on--but there's no rhythmn to it. Like one of those automated voices speaking English. And the high notes--oh my gosh. Truly painful. Makes you appreciate how good the Righteous Brothers are, it's a hard song, very tricky melody.

He asks afterwards if that's not good enough. Simon says it was one of the worst he's ever heard--almost non-human. Weird tone, says Randy--and not pleasant. None of the things you want singing to be. When will you sing again, asks Ryan--I don't truly know, he says, woodenly. Ryan joins him in just standing there afterwards, it's like he's in shock. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, just odd.

The last person from Day 1 and another contestant originally from Latin America, Rudy Cardenas. He has the right look; and a pretty sweet voice. Seems a bit cocky, and is usually outof tune in the second part of his song--but Paula likes him, and Randy joins her to outvote Simon's emphatic "it's a no." I think he'll do okay; I've already told a friend that the show's going to try and feature Hispanics this year, but I don't think Cardenas is a candidate for top 12.

They show clips of Simon getting ripped on by talent-less contestant; only 7 got out on the first day.

Day 2 dawns sunny. "The worst bunch of miserable contestants ever" is what Simon called day 1. Why is it fat people are still fair game for ridicule in this country? They show a fat kid and his crazy-eyed hobbitish sidekick--oh, boy. They both seem to have difficulty speaking.

Small boy first, who seems like that Tattoo guy on Fantasy Island. Dances in a very rote way; breathless singing. His buddy's listening at the door, with an air of concern that's quite funny. Simon rips on him--you look a little odd, compares him to one of those creatures who lives in the jungle with massive eyes--a bushman.... Paula's on the ground in some sortof strong emotion. He leaves, a bit upset.

Now fat boy strolls in. Apprehensively. Simon asks if he's borrowed Randy's trousers. Talks like he's taken helium. Doing God Bless America. With a ton of fake vibrato that sets his belly a-shaking. Monkey-boy says he sounds real good from the outside. They don't rip on him; he tried his best.

Afterwards self-proclaimed monkey boy says he doesn't look like one. They show the two strolling off together. Definitely one of the funniest twosomes on AI in a while.

More clips of bad people. Then, some hairdresser guy who's pretending to be Tyler--but seems like a total dork. He can't speak properly either. Is really loud, but no good. Just not likeable at all. Tries to touch Simon's hair, which gets security up and out.

Montage of Ryan being short. Then a tall black woman, 6'4. She could be decent. Pretty confident. Ex-Air Force. She dances like a stork or something, good energy. Not really singing, more shouting. Randy and Paula start growling at Simon when he says she's a bit over-the-top. He then pouts and refuses to participate; on she goes. She's a novelty act, don't see her doing nuttin. "You just put through a giraffe" says Simon.

Ooh, Jordin Sparks--she has it, from the second you see her you know. Not a great body shape, but--she can sing. Not great, a bit sharp for me, but a big voice and good poise, does a hard Celine Dion song, while she's singing Simon says to Randy she's the best we've seen here. Randy says he's blown away; her dad is an ex-Giants player I've never heard of. A bit too much says Simon, even comments on her weird smile--which I liked, it was young and nervous and natural. Paula and Randy predict she'll do well. I could see her as top 12, has that kind of brightness and energy that gets the judges a bit giddy and slappy afterwards.

My gosh, they next show very bad people doing Don't Cha and then some other song. It's actually horrifyingly bad, and hard to watch. Many of them aren't so much singing as emoting. Only 7 got out the last day; 14 in all--3 less than Minneapolis.

They close with some red-haired guy who exudes hostility and attitude. And again has trouble speaking; he looks like he could be one of those white serial killers (whoops, redundant) if pushed too far. Why did you enter this competition, asks Simon--I like competition, he says. Oh, no--he sings Bohemian Rhapsody in this scary high-pitched voice, the judges crack up. Not even trying to hide it; on and on he goes. He really is the freakiest. Simon says that may be the weirdest audition; compares it to a 1-year-old singing the song.

He says Simon should bring it on; swears, then says stand up and coach me. He starts spouting nonsense. Even the staffer sitting by the door with headphones on smiles as he leaves.

And that's it. Memphis next; 17,000 showed up--my guess is there'll be some good ones. The promo's well-done, reminds you how much fun this show is.