If anyone's wondered why I haven't written about "American Idol" yet this season, the answer is simple: I haven't watched it. After last year's nightmare, in which the presence of a Jersey finalist led to my writing about seven thousand articles about that season, I needed some distance from the show. No Garden Staters this time around, thankfully, but I'm sure I'll still be required (either by my editors or my own need to comment on the biggest thing on television) to write a few columns about it.
So I decided to try an experiment: I wasn't going to watch a second of the show until the semi-finals began. No humiliating auditions, no pointless soap opera in "Hollywood" (aka Glendale), no extensive clips about tracheotomies, Greek rock bands or farms. I would just wait until the interactive portion began and see if the experience was any different if I went in not knowing everyone's backstories. Since these semi-final episodes are going to be excruciatingly padded, I'm sure we'll get biographical clips at some point, but I'll get drunk and drive off that bridge when we get to it.
All I know going in this year is that there's some guy named Ace and that a girl named Paris is the front-runner. I'm going in as virginal as it's possible to be with this show. Will it change the viewing experience any? Dunno, but that's the point of any experiment (that and saving me some time and aggravation).