Lynn Raye Harris

Some years I watch American Idol, and some I don’t. This year, Hubby wanted to watch it so we started at the beginning and we’re still watching. And I have to say, after Hollywood week where I thought they really did have some awesome voices picked out, it’s been pretty blah. NO ONE knocked it out of the park on either night. There are some talented kids, and much Idol left to come, so anything can happen. But though I like some of them a lot, I don’t have a lot of hope this will be a stellar year.

I hate, hate, hate having to listen to FOUR judges critiques. And I have no idea how this show will survive without Simon. Prickly though he is, he seems to be the only one who hears the truth. I usually agree with him, though not always (he wasn’t big on David Cook to begin with a couple of seasons ago, and I loved David from the start).

I think I’ve finally figured Idol out, though. Maybe you already knew, but it hit me last night what the show really is. It’s a very expensive, very flashy karaoke contest. In 8 years (not counting this year just yet), they’ve only found two really viable stars who are still relevant today. Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood still make hits, and they aren’t in danger of their careers fading anytime soon. You could even argue that Chris Daughtry and Adam Lambert will continue to shine (I really think Adam will), and though I still have hope for David Cook, he hasn’t launched out of the mid-list singers yet.

But what about all those talented kids who were in the top 12, or the top 24, who you never hear from again? Apparently, a good voice is a dime a dozen. It’s that extra something that takes them above the level of really awesome karaoke singer. And very, very few of them have it.

America gets into the drama of the season, the stories, the idea that someone’s life will be forever changed by winning this contest. But then next year rolls around and we forget, or lose interest, in the previous year’s winner (and all the finalists). This is entertainment, pure and simple. It’s not really about launching a superstar — because the chances the winner will be a superstar aren’t great. Taylor Swift is a superstar (not that I understand it), and she didn’t need a contest to get her there. Miley Cyrus. The Black-Eyed Peas. Beyonce. Lady Gaga. The list could go on.

Whatever the reason, those singers have that something that Idol contestants, with rare exception, lack. I’ll keep watching, because it’s entertaining, but at least I know not to expect greatness anymore. This is the finest karaoke on the planet, but that’s pretty much all it is.

I’m over at Tote Bags ‘n’ Blogs today, talking about cabin fever and the cabin romance! I’ll be away from the computer for a while today, but I’ll check in later, so leave your comments and questions.

Have a great Monday!

PS: The post wasn’t up when I checked at 5:30 AM my time; hopefully, it will be up soon!

My hubby recently got to go on a business trip to Rome. Talk about jealous! I would have gone with him, but for two things: first, it was last minute and flights were more expensive; and, two, I carelessly let my passport lapse quite some time ago.

I’ve had a passport since I was seventeen, and it’s always been current, but once we moved back to the States permanently, I didn’t feel any sort of urgency to renew it when it finally expired. Duh. I mean I filled out the application, had it with the passport, and kept planning to go get photos so I could mail it. But I never would get around to the photo portion. Finally, last week while Hubby was enjoying himself in Rome, I went and got those photos and marched down to the Post Office. The next time he has to go to Europe on business, at least I’ll have a passport! I may not be able to control the flight prices, but I’ve got half the equation covered now.

So, he was supposed to get back on Friday, but once he landed in Atlanta, he was stuck because of the snow. All flights to our neck of the woods were canceled, though we didn’t have a bit of snow here. He had to stay overnight and drive back on Saturday. But, he brought me lovely presents!

Though I didn’t get to go, I did get to do some vicarious travel though his photos. I’ve been to Rome before, but it’s been a long time, so these pictures really brought it all back for me.

Ahh, the Coliseum. When I was there, it was over run with cats. Hubby says there aren’t so many cats now. I don’t want to know what happened to them.

Don’t know precisely what it is, but it’s pretty!

Recognize this from “Angels and Demons”?

Remnants of an aqueduct.

Would a trip to Rome be complete without a visit to the Trevi Fountain?

No, this isn’t Chicago. It’s Atlanta. This isn’t supposed to happen in Atlanta. It’s the South! It’s Hotlanta! Where did all this snow come from?

I enjoyed my vicarious trip to Rome, but a real trip would be even better. Then I could think up a to-die-for Roman hero, give him a spunky heroine, and plop them down in Rome. What fun! Speaking of heroes and heroines, I better get back to the current WIP. It’s yucky and cold out, and we even have a little bit of snow on the ground, so it’s a good time to dream. Too bad I picked snowy Russia as a setting. Brrrr!

Clearly, it isn’t spring yet. But a recent “What Not to Wear” binge sent me to my closet, brimming with determination. Time to get rid of stuff. I have a bad habit of keeping things that no longer fit in the belief that if I just lose that last five or ten pounds, they’ll fit again. Clinton and Stacy have made me realize that’s not very good in practice.

I’m not done yet, but I’ve gotten rid of several things. Truthfully, I think more than half of the closet will go. And that’s not because it’s all too small, but because I don’t actually wear most of it. I keep stuff thinking I’ll wear it, but I somehow never do.

The beauty of this process is that it gives me a fabulous excuse to go shopping for new clothes. I wish I had that 5K that Clinton and Stacy hand over every episode, but if I spend that much on clothes, my husband will probably kill me. Guess I’ll have to be reasonable.

Presents heroines often end up going on fabulous shopping sprees, don’t they? I know I’ve written one spree, when Nico takes Lily to Paris, but my editor made me cut most of the shopping detail (darn it). But I love to read those sprees. Jennie Lucas wrote a great one not too long ago, and one of my favorites is in one of Jane Porter’s sheikh books. I love the parade of clothes, the handbags, the shoes, the super-expensive price tags, and the enigmatic hero who stands by and basically says that money is no object.

It’s not the money, though, it’s the way he wants to clothe the heroine in beautiful things. It just gives me that little catch in my heart. Like the shopping scene in “Pretty Woman” when Richard Gere goes to the stores with Julia Roberts, after the shop girls wouldn’t wait on her, and buys her all those gorgeous and swanky clothes. Oh swoon.

I know my hubby would buy me whatever I wanted if a) we could afford it and b) he didn’t have to go shopping with me. But of course he’s not a billionaire and I’m not a 20-something Twiggy who can wear anything and look fabulous in it.

*If* I could go on that fantasy shopping trip, I’d hit the Christian Louboutin store for shoes, and then I’d go to Prada, Hermes, Yves Saint Laurent, Versace, Vera Wang, and etc. I’m not sure I’d know how to act when faced with those price tags, though.

So if you could go on a fantasy shopping trip, what would you buy? Doesn’t have to be clothes, btw. Cars, vacations, homes, whatever. What is your fantasy?

There’s simply too much to do, and I’m failing at thinking up interesting and witty blog posts these days. When I realize it’s been a week since my last post, I’m surprised. Where did the time go?

It would be nice to have a clone, wouldn’t it? Or maybe just an intelligent robot who could do some things for you. I DO have a robot to vacuum for me, and I love it very much. My hubby insisted on getting a Roomba a few months ago; I resisted, as I often do, thinking there was no way a little, round robotic vacuum could do that good a job.

The Roomba (we call him Jeeves in this house, even though he speaks with a lady’s voice) ROCKS. I have officially eaten my words and I could not live without Jeeves. Jeeves is so fabulous, in fact, that he has accomplished something quite miraculous: my husband now does most of the vacuuming. Seriously, how could I not be pleased?

Now I need a robot who will do laundry, shop for groceries, cook, and run errands for me. Hubby says I need to hire a maid, but I don’t begin to know how to find one. Not to mention I’d have to clean the house before I could let someone else clean the house.

The other thing I need is a vacation. Not a vacation from writing, but a vacation from the gray, cold, rainy place where I live. I am so missing Hawaii right about now. *sigh* If I could take my computer and go to a sunny place, I’d happily do it. But, the hubby has to work and the cats need food and water on a daily basis, and going away alone is no fun. So I’m staying home.

I guess I could get out the Hawaiian CDs and the Aloha wear, and pretend I’m enjoying balmy temps and tropical flowers. It might work. (The South is not supposed to be this cold!) If you’re living somewhere gray and cold, what do you do to cope with the winter blues? And if you know where to get one of those house-cleaning, errand-running robots, I’d like to know that too.