Worshipping Idols

Towards the end of May last year, millions in America and across the globe were glued to their TVs, eagerly awaiting the new American idol. It was the fourth person to be crowned American Idol.
Of course, everybody knew the winner will have all the money, gifts, prizes and sponsorships that come with the title. Every wannabe singer in the bathroom, kitchen and hallway thinks it could have been her or him at the podium.
All of us have dreams. There's really nothing wrong with harbouring such a ridiculous ambition, except that there can only be one winner, just as there can only be one true Highlander!
By May 25, the night of the final, we all found out to our great delight or horror that it was Carrie Underwood and not that cute, macho guy Bo Bice. Well, that's water under the bridge now. Carrie has gone on to produce her first album in November and Bo, besides getting married, has other plans for his singing career.
Now, the shadow of the American Idol is again looming over the horizon. Come Jan 18, give or take 24 hours, all the hype, TV publicity and all the attention Fox Televsion can muster will descend upon us like a whole container-load of delicious chocolates.
We will have our initial favourites and try to identify with some potential winners. That lovely girl with a lousy voice may win our sympathy. That roguish-looking guy with an insipid voice may tug at our heart-strings but everything is on the table, as they say.
Simon Cowell will once again irritate us to no end. Paula Abdul will soothe away the hurts of other judges' barbed remarks and Randy Jackson will give us know-nothings the benefit of his immense recording experience.
It will be a grand show of finite possibilities. Contestants will cry, of coure, we all expect them to. The weeks that follow will ensure great display of emotions, on stage and off stage, in the home and in the office.
Everybody thinks he can spot the winner. That's what TV entertainment is all about. It galvanises your secret dreams to be someone like the American Idol. It makes you think you can succeed when tens of thousands of others have tried and fail.
It is the stuff of dreams that every thinking member of the homo erectus species has secretly stowed away in his mind and heart. We all cheer on our personal favourites.
Very often, our opinions will differ from our best friend's, but never mind, the bet is on. Even the losers can become famous. That's the wonderful part of that gigantic reality TV show called American Idol. Just ask bug-teethed William Hung. Ricky Martin bangs, William basically bungled but in his failure, he too bangs.
Now we know, even if we can't sing to save our own lives, someone, or thousands out there will still love us, and not only our mother.
The American Idol enters its fifth season this month. It appeals to the young and old and it speaks of hidden desires and shattered dreams. The American TV moguls know that this show is a great money spinner. Hell, it is now big business just like Burger King or McDonald's.
It is being franchised all over the world. And the world has fallen over itself trying to emulate the success of this show in its own backyard in different regions.
From Australia to Malaysia, the Idol contest has attracted thousands of the most horrible singers to the auditions. Luckily for all of us, some of them can really sing. Then, there's the X-factor. So what if some of them can sing, do they have the look that comes with being a potential champion?
That means well liked by the voting viewers. Simon Cowell describes it as the likeability factor. Sometimes, it is not enough to sing extremely well, you also must have the personality that can make you a winner by just a nose!
I am sure, it will be another fun session again. Twelve weeks of relentless TV viewing for 60 minutes every week aren't going to be too strenuous for your heart. The positive thing is that it is a great conversational topic.
Pick your winners as they say. Just don't get too emotional. For the business-minded, it's time to place the bets. Clearly, all of us need to get a life since we are so easily swayed by a TV show that can only make Simon Cowell and Simon Fuller richer by the millions.
I wish I can sing like Clay Aiken or Ruben Studdard, too but my vocal chords are in constant disagreement with my inner most wishes. So for those who can't sing, they can at least criticise, or praise. I choose to do both. Now sit back and relax and watch the fun.