I teach guitar on Tuesday nights at a studio in my house. I love it. I love that they come to me, that’s the best part. I used to go to them and what a pain that was. But, enough about me. Let’s talk about American Idol.
Last night I finished teaching, made myself some dinner and sat down in front of the TV (something I rarely do lately) and found myself watching American Idol (something I NEVER do). Sure, I watched the first few seasons but when they crowned Carrie Underwood an American Idol I lost my stamina. I gave up and stopped caring.It’s a popularity contest, not a talent contest. But, last night they were doing the songs of Lennon and McCartney so I decided to hang around and watch some 20 something “musicians” butcher some of the greatest songs ever written. Which they did. I hope Paul wasn’t watching.The kid at the end singing “Hey Jude” made my stomach turn. But, I regress. That is not why I am writing this post.
I am writing because the gloriously, perfectly alien-like Ryan Seacrest announces at the end of the show that they are looking for the first ever “American Idol Mom”. All I heard was you got to be over 21 and you have to be a Mom so I stood and proclaimed “That’s Me!” at the top of my lungs. Visions of Hollywood danced through my head as I milled over what I would sing for my audition. Should I do something current and poppy like an acoustic “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga? Or should I stick with my roots and pull out a mean “Bobby McGee”? They mentioned a website, I must go on that website and get this ball rolling. My public needs me, they are aching for me.
Reality is never as sexy as fantasy.
It’s a fucking SWEEPSTAKE! Yeah, joke is on me. Whatever. I got over it quickly, truthfully I don’t think the world is ready for my brand of genius. But, I kept reading. To enter this contest you have to write an essay of 300 words or less about why you deserve to be the Idol Mom, all the great things you’ve done, the demands of raising a child, the hardships and mountains you have climbed to get to the place you are now…blah, blah, blah. This is the kind of essay that someone else writes ABOUT you, not that you write by yourself and for yourself. If you write it yourself you may quickly fall into the “Look How Great I Am”, “I Have Been Through Hell And Back And Come Out The Other Side” kind of “Toot Toot (my own horn)” essay. But, being the fledgling writer that I am I decided to take on the challenge and give it a shot. These people need to be convinced that I deserve the free make-over and 2 tickets to the American Idol Finale in LA. I had to make my story sound desperate, filled with hardship and spirit. It should appear as a series of emotional and social hurdles that I clawed my way over with my bloodied fingernails. It would be bleak, but still be dotted with moments of hope and bliss that can make you cry and laugh at the same time. It would be brilliant.
I would need to get out the Thesaurus for this one.
And I did. And I thought about my plight to raise this “difficult” amazing kid, my struggles as a single Mom, my financial disparity and overall station in this world. And this is what I came up with. Ready?
I got it pretty good. Actually, I have no complaints, no sob story to tell, no great struggle to describe and begin to tug at the heartstrings of the random people who are “judging” this stupid contest. I realized for the first time in a while that I have got it made, and that despite an occasional gripe or beef, I couldn’t produce the kind of essay that would win this contest. I may need a vacation more than I need coffee in the morning, but there is someone out there whose got it worse. I take a step back and can see that despite the ADHD, despite being malignantly single, despite digging out spare change from the cushions of my couch just to put gas in the car…well, being me is all good. Being Max’s Mom trumps all the bad stuff, and I am truly grateful for what I have. I am a Mom Idol, I am Max’s Mom Idol. And, I know that sounds hokey and cliche but once you realize how important your job is, the sooner your internal volcano sleeps. And when that happens, everything falls into place. I can’t imagine anything better than seeing this boy turn into a man. It’s simple. It’s unconditional love. It’s Motherhood. It’s priceless.
Oh…best of luck to the other “American Idol Mom” contestants. Part of the prize money gets donated to a charity of your choice, $5000 to be exact. I suggest you choose any program that helps keep music in our schools. Let’s get our kids off Guitar Hero and on to playing the real thing. Music inspires, teaches and comforts us. After being Max’s Mom, it’s my next great love.
Goodnight all.
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Mindy Hester
