of pink pants and billy joel: why i am no longer a passive spectator

Let’s get something out in the open here.

I watch American Idol. My wife has been a choir director, music instructor, voice coach, and piano teacher. That is to say, she knows a thing or two about music and singing. So, what was once an irritating show that got immediately turned off in favor of sports programming or nature shows (or static), has now become must-see TV in the Burkholder house. Combine that with the fact that we don’t have cable (meaning that manly things like NBA basketball and the Deadliest Catch aren’t available to us anyway) and you have yourself a recipe for a big heaping spoonful of weekly karaoke madness and Ryan Seacrest.

I maintained some pride in recent years, as I could with full confidence assert that I had never voted. I was a passive spectator. I was…until this year.

I am all about Scott McIntyre. That dude is awesome. He is everything that the over-glamorized, over-dramatized, look at me competition is not. He is humble and respectful. He is simple and sincere. No crazy makeup. No theatrical treatment of American musical classics. Just a man and his piano. And some pink pants. And some Billy Joel hair. And some wicked chops on the keys.

When all of this gets sorted out, maybe he and I should get an apartment together…

(Take it easy, Champ. Why don't you sit this next one out, stop talking for a while.)