OK, so, back in the fall Andy was out late at a meeting of some sort, and I was flipping through the channels after Quinn went to bed, and saw that one of the first episodes of "American Idol" for the season was on. I've never watched this show in my life, and I'm always slightly annoyed by all the hype that surrounds it. But for some reason, I decided to watch. Blah blah blah blah singing, singing, singing, SimonPaulaRandyDawg, this moves too slowly for me, I thought. But then Taylor walked into the room.

I was mesmerized. Entranced. He sang a little bit of "A Change is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke, and I couldn't believe it. He sang with feeling, with passion, with confidence...something no one I'd seen onscreen had demonstrated once. They asked him to sing another song, so he did a few bars of "Swanee River Rock" by Ray Charles, and that was it. I was in bloop-bloop-rewind-that-TiVo-heaven. I watched him sing over and over and over, and even saved it so I could show Andy when he got home. I couldn't believe someone like Taylor was on primetime television.

I've been so frustrated with the radio lately. It's so homogonized, there's nothing original or interesting to listen to. And my God, program directors, it's NOT 1986, STOP SHOVING '80S SONGS DOWN OUR THROATS. If there were a radio station that played Sam Cooke and Ray Charles and Taylor Hicks, I would be the happiest person driving through the streets of McHenry, Illinois that you ever saw.

I decided I'd just watch "Idol" until Taylor got voted off, but that hasn't happened yet. Tomorrow night he'll find out if he wins. I hope that the record contract he'll get out of this show doesn't make him diluted and processed and ready for the Clear Channel stations. Someone on TWoP fretted that Taylor is now going to be saddled with the management that Kelly Clarkson and Clay Aiken "chewed their hands off" to get away from. I will worry about all of this later, though. Right now I'm going to assume the best, and that's that Taylor will make me an original, bluesy, harmonica-y, CD, one made with real instruments and no lush orchestration and people tromping around in faux choir robes mucking up the place.

And I'm tired of all the crying and moaning about Chris Daughtry and Elliot Yamin. "I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO WATCH THIS STUPID SHOW ANYMORE....HAS ANYONE SEEN MY CRAYONS AND BARBIE DOLLS?" Pull it together, dorks. Taylor rocks.