WORSHIPPING IDOLS

Well, I take back everything I said on Facebook yesterday about the American Idol finale being one hour and 55 minutes of boredom and five minutes of excitement when the winner’s name is revealed. They brought out the old timers!! Rock on!!

For starters, Alice Cooper, replete in tight black leather and studs, opened the show with “School’s Out.” What an inspiration! If he can still stuff himself into a jumpsuit and bust a move at age 61, then maybe there is hope for the rest of us.

Next, be still my aging heart, came Barry Gibb and his bro Robin of The Bee Gees fame. OMG! I was about ready to have a Jive Talkin’ musical orgasm right on the spot. Even though Barry now resembles Buffalo Bill Cody with his long, gray locks, he can still hit those high disco notes.

Representing The Doobie Brothers was Michael McDonald. Now, I once rocked to the DB’s at the Kansas State Fair maybe a century ago, so my excitement continued to mount. And when Hall and Oates came out Man Eatin’, I could no longer contain myself.

“What ARE you doing?” Big Bore asked, eyes rolling at me.

“Sofa dancing,” I answered. “Just be glad I’m not standing up.”

“Well, thank God there’s just five more minutes.”

“Not tonight. It lasts for one more hour!”

“You're kidding! Two hours?” he asked, exasperated.

“Yep, I smiled.”

He headed for the door.

What could top the first hour? Good lord, Bret Michaels has come back from the near-dead, and there he is on stage jamming’ with Casey James (third place idol contestant, for those of you who don’t follow the mania). The man was lying on an ICU bed two weeks ago with a brain aneuyrism, knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door, and now he’s performing like a mad man. A super mad man. What’s next? Is Elvis actually in the building?

When Chicago came on, I tried finding Big Bore, thinking he’d surely want to see them. He was hiding somewhere in the backyard. His loss. He did get back to the living room in time to see some rapper and dance team wearing the baggiest jeans on the planet.

“Do you know who these guys are?” I asked BB.

“Beats the hell out of me,” he answered.

“Well, they’re all about to lose their pants.”

Obviously, I’m skipping over all the chick singers who appeared on the show: Alanis, Christina, Janet (Miss Jackson). Divas don’t count.

Finally, the end was near, and just when I think this show can’t bring on another old idol of mine who’s still living, who should appear but JOE COCKER!!! Faaaaaaaaaar out!!

“That’s Joe Cocker?” BB asked, incredulously, spoiling my moment of utter delight.

Okay, so he hasn’t aged well. He’s Joe freakin’ Cocker, for god’s sake. What do you expect?

So, he's led a hard rockin' life and needs a little help from his friends. It's amazing that he's still breathing.

By the time all the screaming and screeching had calmed down, I was worn out. What a night!! I didn’t care who won American Idol. I was just delirious with seeing all my old home boys. Who would have thought that the grand finale show would turn out to be a love fest to the ‘60s and ‘70s, and The REAL American idols are drawing Social Security? At least for one night, they got out of their rocking chairs and showed those young hopefuls how to rock the stage!