Gokey

By Michael Pape

America loves a dreamer, and that love has propelled American Idol to the top of the ratings for years.  Even last year, when it was clear that married and/or gay people were threatening to turn the show into a “Wholesome Married Guy” vs. “Dangerous Glam Rocker” grudge match, people still watched and voted and got way too attached to contestants that were destined to do nothing more than produce terrible pop music.  I have to confess that I, too, was drawn in by Danny Gokey.  I didn’t actually pick up the phone and vote for him, but I did cheer for him from my couch.  Maybe if I had voted, he wouldn’t have been beaten by lesser and weirder-looking candidates like Kris Allen and Adam Lambert.  Yeah, I should probably get over this.

In my defense, Mr. Gokey was the Perfect Storm of characteristics for me – a white (just kidding) nice guy from Wisconsin whose wife died of pretty much the same genetic ailment that runs in my family.  I didn’t even really like his voice, but I sure liked him as a person (probably a semi-manufactured person, but still), and that’s all it took.  And when my new best friend went down in flames to those two buffoons who were maybe the 4^th or 5^th most talented singers in the competition, I was a little angry.  I’m not proud of this, and I recognize its futility – if I got mad every time America voted for something stupid, I’d never do anything but sit around with steam coming out of my ears.

The cultural forces that helped shape us and our view of the world also draw us to caring too much about things like American Idol.  Shouldn’t the name, Idol, be a tip-off that something not quite right is going on here?  As a nation of dreamer-lovers, we put ourselves in the place of Lambert or Allen or Gokey, wondering what it would be like to perform in front of millions of people.  We wonder what it would be like to have fans that adore us.  Idolize us.  These thoughts may be natural, but I don’t know that they’re any good.  Maybe it’s just me.  Anyone else dream of having fans?

So as we watch Idol this year, let’s try and remember that none of it matters.  Would a show that mattered have Posh Spice on it?  I think not.  Imagine what would happen if we, as a Christian church, took a stand and said, “No!  We’re not going to waste our time voting in a meaningless popularity contest!”  What if we did something else instead?

In that case, Adam Lambert’s current equivalent would probably win.  Oh, the humanity.  Curse you, American Idol.

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