How American Idol might have done much better in the '80s.

Keep in mind I just saw Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band again last night. I love that movie, as you know, and this time Nan made the discovery that Sanjaya Malakar would have done well to sing a Peter Frampton song or two. (As you also know, I liked Sanjaya. Peter Frampton's Billy Shears and me go way beyond like. *ahem*)

So it was Barry Gibb night on American Idol. My first 8-Track was the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever. You might guess where this is all going. I mean, after all, it was Bee Gees night the first time I noticed Idol, so many years ago.

What the ever-loving hell happened to three-fourths of the Top 4?! These were my favorite kids this year...singing my favorite music...what could go wrong? Missing harmonies? Maybe. I don't know. I just found myself saying they should let Jordin Sparks win tonight and kick everyone else off. I didn't expect to like Jordin at the beginning, either...but...tonight she invoked Guilty.

The Barbra Streisand/Barry Gibb album Guilty was like, all of 1982 to me. Guilty, barbecues, and tonsilitis, those were the days, my friend. So when Jordin sang Woman In Love and the judges didn't like it, I realized that I am still very happy to be in the '80s, and there be certain others who just...don't...get it. I hope for Jordin's sake there are many like me out there.

I also laughed heartily when no one (but Blake Lewis, Barry Gibb and I) knew This Is Just Where I Came In. I love that song. Love. Take that, smart-ass judges, I know all these songs and you do not. Bah.

Still doesn't excuse whatever the hell happened to half the songs tonight. I can't believe I enjoyed Bon Jovi night better than Barry Gibb night. I enjoyed the Barry Gibb parts...of course...he could still help kick Areosmith's asses.

How American Idol might have done much better in the '80s.

I started out just like everyone else before I turned evil and bitter.

I used to go down to the playground in my Strawberry Shortcake skates, and I rode my bike in the park. One time, I even jumped up and down on a discarded matress with some other kids--that was a little egdy, man, I can't believe I survived that.

I knew all the words to the anti-drug PSA songs, and the cat food songs, and the themes to television shows. Okay, I made up to words to The A-Team.

I bought Barbie and she didn't give me inferior body issues...although I was jealous of that Twirly-Curl bitch's hair. Why did I have to buy "Hispanic Barbie" to get a doll with dark hair, anyway?

I liked Pac-Man, but I had an inappropriate relationship with Pitfall Harry. Oh, Harry, if only I'd taken as much time to learn a foreign language as I took to learn the pattern of the rabid bats we had to get past to get you home with your neice and all that junk.

I used to worry that President Reagan would get us all blown up, but I had hope because Sylvester Stallone single-handedly took out terrorists by dressing up as Lindsay Wagner.

Sometimes I miss those days.

I started out just like everyone else before I turned evil and bitter.