Hot Lixx Hulahan vs. America's Got Talent
Telling people that you ‘have talent’ implies that nobody thinks you had any in the first place, thus the need to volunteer the information. This in turn usually means that you don’t ‘have talent.’ In fact, chances are you may even ‘suck.’ So when the producers of a show named America’s Got Talent called and asked me to audition I did not immediately jump at the chance.
The last season showcased everything from guys riding motorcycles on furniture to quick change artists to magicians to ventriloquists, et al. It seemed like an interesting pool of people, but despite the eccentricities of the many participants the show still ultimately chose a young girl singer as "America’s Most Talented." Imagine that! I would have thought America’s Got Talent - the sister show to American Idol - would have elected something other than another singer to show that America really really has talent (no, really, we do have talent!). I guess mainstream TV-watching America wants the comfort, familiarity and safety of a singing little girl to represent them and not something as ‘weird’ as a woman who can shoot a bow and arrow with her feet whilst doing a handstand, or an 80 year old black grandma spitting gangsta rap (both failed acts from season one).
I did some research on the show and came up with this: during the first level of this "reality game show" a team of producers travel from city to city hosting cattle-call auditions. Hordes of wanna-bes (like myself, to be fair) show up in herds to give their best 90 seconds to a panel of people who have seen it all before. From there, all the audition footage is reviewed over what must be a mind-numbing six months. A select few are then called upon and invited to LA for the competition rounds. Those who accept will perform their talent in front of the fabled ‘studio audience’ and feared ‘celebrity judges.’ Contestants are judged (usually harshly) as soon as their act is done (sometimes sooner) and either advance to the next level (in Las Vegas) or get sent home. At that point the show becomes a human interest story because the contestants are then shaped into personalities. Viewers get insights and glimpses into the rigorous training and molding needed to make America’s next big talent.
Oh, and the prize is $1,000,000.
When I find this out I have little question about how I fit into all this.
Am I worthy of a million bucks?
Hardly. More like $35 and a slice of pizza.
Bjorn Turoque was also asked to audition so I ask his opinion. Should I go on the show, even though I would merely be providing the judges with fodder for ridicule? "Give the people what they want," he advises. (I have to admire his ability to go into any situation, no matter how awkward or inappropriate, and do what he does. He does college lectures, bookstore appearances, you name it, and all in the name of air guitar.)
I take some pause and arrive at the notion that, if nothing else, I will hopefully get a good story out of the experience (2000 words from now let me know if I succeeded). And, if I’m lucky, another chance to act silly on national television (anything to make my friends proud). And if I'm really lucky maybe I’ll get a picture air-guitaring with judge David Hasselhoff (aka Michael Knight, the squashbuckling passenger of the 80’s coolest car – K.I.T.T.)!
I say Yes, I’ll do it.