Better Late Than Never

So I'm bored tonight.

I'm in a hotel in San Diego. I have to wear a reasonably abbreviated dress for a wedding in a few days so I decide to copiously exfoliate and apply self tanner so I have a little bit of color. I also need to pack for my flight tomorrow. So I'm in my hotel room, naked (to avoid streaks while the self tanner dries) and packing. And I'm really bored.

My brother Marv calls me on my cell. Initially, he just wants to talk about Dad, but then we start to bullshit about other things. Suddenly, the finale of "American Idol" is on. The next thing I know, we've spent the last two hours exchanging commentary on the phone about every performance as we watch the show. Curious, given neither of us have watched much of the show this season and we know next to nothing about the contestants outside of what we've read in the media. My brother works for FOX so he's a bit more au courant. He loved last season, but lost interest this year.

We love Smokey Robinson. I love the gospel number with The Wayans and Melinda (?). We think Kelly Clarkson sounds like her throat needs a rest; We like Carrie Underwood; We like Taylor Hicks; We split the vote on Rueben Stoddard. Green Day is a bummer (I like John Lennon, but that song is a freaking snore). Gwen Stefani is good. Tony Bennett--well, that he goes for the high note at his age is always impressive. Was Bette Midler wearing a Hefty Bag? The Clive Davis Gratuitous Moment is like kissing the Pope's Ring. Those awards are ridiculous--Memo to Fox: Please stop it. Yeah, we sort of summed it up bit by bit. The announcement of Jordin as the winner was hardly a surprise, but the night reciting the play by play with my brother was truly priceless.

What would you expect when I'm staying in a hotel without Bravo? This was a satisfactory second.