American Idle

Normally, it isn’t until the actual completion of an event that I begin to rue the decision that I made to partake of it. This can be anything from spending money on some ill advised purchase to a trip that wastes most of an entire day.

But the other night as I, along with approximately 75% of my fellow American citizens, breathlessly awaited Ryan Secreast’s anointing of either Kris Allen or Adam Lambert as the eighth American Idol, I realized that I once again had freely given time that I wouldn’t ever recapture. Time itself may be timeless, but we as mortals only are allotted a finite number of hours to conduct business during a lifetime. Over the past couple of months, I had squandered about 40 of my hours watching my generation’s version of the Christians versus the lions.

Even before the winner was announced, I had formulated, processed, and sanctioned the following thought: What the heck am I doing? After all, I gave up the same number of hours last Spring, and gosh darn it, my life barely changed for either good or bad once David Cook won the crown. Come to think of it, Jordan Sparks and Fantasia’s great fortune didn’t make one iota of difference in my being, either.

So why bother? Just as the handsome host was about to announce the name of Americas next millionaire, I shut the TV off. That’s right, I let it go. Didn’t care.

If I could just take each of those minutes that I sat couch potato style and watched American Idol each year as Winter melted into Spring and give some purpose to them, the world might just be a little better off. Help someone, volunteer, be a real humanitarian…then I’ve done something worthwhile.

I know I can’t ever recoup the time I’ve spent watching Simon, Paula, and company, but boy are things going to be different from now on. Believe me, I’m going to get started making a real difference – just as soon as the baseball season ends.