How An American Idol Reject Is Born

If you’ve ever watched American Idol, you are familiar with what always happens the first few shows. At least what used to happen when I was watching it (I haven’t seen it in years). Ryan Seacrest interviews the most confident, enthusiastic person you’ve ever seen. They build up their upcoming performance so much, that you are now convinced this is going to be good! Epic even! You are just minutes from being wowed and amazed!

Their families are backstage, nervously fidgeting behind the scenes. Then it’s showtime and the uber-confident performer goes in front of the judges. And bombs. The most horrific, screeching, almost non-human sounds are belted from this person’s mouth. Then the mean judge tells them that they have no business singing ever again. Not even karaoke. Not on a cruise ship. Not even in the shower. The devastated singer seems shocked and confused. And the viewer is left wondering how in the world this twenty something went through life so delusional.

Where were their family and friends throughout their life? Did they never once tell them the truth, ever so gently? Or at least told this poor, misguided soul the real deal before they went on national television and humiliated themselves for all the world to see? I was one of those viewers, shaking my head at these poor people’s families.

But now I know how this happens. Truth be told, I may or may not have a child (who shall remain nameless) that can’t sing. Maybe can’t sing is too strong of a description. The singing is average. It elicits a “meh” response when I hear it. However, this person (who shall remain nameless) does not make it easy for me to get around this issue. This person I may or may not know never asks me if they can sing. I am told and expected to agree. This is the typical scenario:

Nameless person: “Hey mom, listen to me sing this song…” (very sweetly belts out latest pop song, if slightly off-key). “That was good wasn’t it!?!?”

Me: “Um, yeah? It was…quite fine.”

Nameless person: “No, it was really good! I’m gonna be a singer when I grow up!!”

Me: “Well, slow down there. I don’t want you to put all your eggs in one basket. Very few people become famous singers. Why don’t you concentrate on other things? Like being a lawyer or a librarian like I was. A teacher maybe?”

Nameless person: “I don’t know. I just love singing! Want to hear another song? Oh, I know! You should post it on YouTube!!”

Me: (Involuntary gasp) “Oh my god. I forgot to tell you. YouTube has been shut down. Forever!”

Nameless person: (laughs) “No, it didn’t!”

Me: “Ok, we’ve gotten rid of the Internet. I think we need to go back to simpler times.”

Nameless person: “Aw, really? Oh, well. I’m still going to be a super famous singer. I sound sooo good!”

And so it goes. Time and time again. I don’t have the heart to tell this person that I may or may not have in my family the truth. If this person just asked me if they could sing, I would say something like “it’s alright. So, you’re not the best singer in the world. I’m not that great of a singer either.” You know, some self-deprecation to ease the tension and let this nameless person down easy. But no. This nameless person has to tell me how great they are and innocently look to me for confirmation, fully expecting it. How do I get around that without crushing this mysterious person’s dreams? I feel trapped into continuing this lie, lest I be the cause of some meltdown later in life. I can only image the future book this person would write with a title like: The Day My Mean Mom Told Me I Couldn’t Sing: The Beginning Of A Tragic Life. Oh, the angst!

I hear this is the last season of American Idol. But unfortunately, there will be other shows that will gladly put the latest bad singers on the air for ratings. If, in say 10-15 years, you see someone related to me and should see me nervously pacing backstage, just remember: I know what’s about to happen. I know that this will not be the world’s greatest singer. I know this, no matter what I say to the interviewer. And I’m sorry America. I never meant for it to get this far.

Featured Image by UBC Learning Commons