American Idolatry

"I'm in love, I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it!" I couldn't help but quote Elf as I joyfully watched American Idol Tuesday night. Granted, the circumstances under which I uttered the words were a bit different than Buddy's. I was sitting alone in my common room, exclaiming my true feelings to absolutely no one in particular, as my two normal viewing companions were otherwise occupied. It seems a bit pathetic when I reconsider the situation, but I will not lament my penchant for unusually strong attachments to people I will never meet here. I think that topic is better suited for a trip to the shrink.

But I digress; I wanted to proclaim that my American Idol allegiances have been captured. The semifinals are the point at which I pick my favorites. I usually watch both the girls and guys sing and decide which lucky contestants would garner my support. The decision is generally tough, but in the end I have done pretty well, choosing second-place contestants like Blake Lewis, Bo Bice, and ashamedly Clay Aiken (go ahead, judge me). But I didn't need to hear the women sing before deciding that none of them could compare to the two men I fell in love with on Tuesday: Jason Castro and Michael Johns.

Castro is an unlikely American Idol semifinalist, with dreadlocks streaming down to his waist. At 20 years old, Jason is a performer who is wise beyond his years. He chose to accompany himself with the acoustic guitar as he sang the '60s hit "Daydream" (the theme of the night was the '60s). His effortless vocals reminded me a lot of a quirkier Jack Johnson or the forgotten name twin Jason Mraz. The judges agreed, as Simon dubbed Jason's performance as one of the top two of the night.

Johns is also an unlikely semifinalist, not because of his looks, but because of his Australian origins. Indeed, the 29-year-old is extremely handsome, with an excellent sense of style. The Aussie originally caught my eye in Hollywood when he sang a beautiful rendition of the Queen classic "Bohemian Rhapsody," a song that most people butcher. He kept the classic rock tradition alive Tuesday by smoothly crooning The Doors' "Light My Fire," adding just the right touch of Jim Morrison's gritty growl. It should be noted though that Johns is married, meaning I should probably keep my comments to myself. I do have a classy reputation to uphold, after all.