Goodnight LA

Editor's note: Matt's watching "American Idol" this season as a little project so as to see what all the big ratings and hype are about. Matt also enjoys dental exams.

Let me tell you about the worst moment of my entire day. I sat watching Idol tonight as they rolled through Los Angeles in their never-ending quest to find the next B-list celebrity and I was thinking it was nice they gave Seacrest some more jabs after shutting him out the past two episodes. And, suddenly, a magnificent glow shone (shined, whatever) from my TV. They started wrapping up! Boy, that seemed short, I thought to myself as I finished up my leftovers at 2 a.m.

Turned out it was. There were 20 minutes left and they were only wrapping up the first day. I came back down off of my short-lived happy-high as they presented another 4 useless contestants. I realized I was still watching American Idol and it was only the fifth episode of the season. Not that I'd progressed any further into the season in my head.

We won't go back into how I've ended up watching a show that, through some awful rift of space, time and common sense, holds "musicians" such as Olivia Newton John and Barry Manilow up where they should be holding Led Zeppelin and the Dead. One day I'll look back on this and then roll around in a pile of good CDs just to clean myself off.

The confidence on some of tonight's performers, and on some of the past few nights' performers as well, is impressive. I don't have that sort of confidence in my nonexistant talents. It does say a lot about what just a bit of confidence can do, though. I don't have nearly enough confidence in my nonexistant basketball skills to warm up with Duke and then tell Coach K where to shove his titles when he tells me to get off the court (I hope I got all my sports references right there).

And while their confidence could be impressive, tonight's episode also did me the favor of reminding me why I live in Jersey and not on the West Coast. After the first two geniuses did their thing I was ready to denounce all U.S. territory west of, say, Nashville. Don't get me started on the South or we may lose Cape May. Maybe even Wildwood.

Either way, my second least favorite moment of the evening came with the montage of beggars. Yeah, getting down on your knees in front of the millionaires is exactly what's going to score you that golden ticket. You don't need to sing well, you just need to pout a little and bat your eyes at Paula (who, I've determined -- between you and me -- isn't drinking Coke from that awful red cup). And for that matter, carrying a dumb oaktag sign to the auditions, or having your parents there... or, really, having your parents there carrying a dumb oaktag sign to the auditions... you get my point.

This episode was so devoid of usefulness I don't really even remember much talent popping up either. What'd they give away 3 tickets on the air? It's not even a singing contest yet. Not that it's really a singing contest anyway. It's more like student council elections if your high school were really, really big. And had Coke sponsorships. And famous people just popping in for an assembly.

Forget it, I'm done. Happily, it's over for the week. Time for some real TV. More Idol next week when they start wrapping up the auditions.