A Posting on the Fly

I gotta jet for work in a couple minutes, but I was having some coffee, kinda steeling myself against the chill morn,* watching a ten-minute clip from last night's Idol, when I got to thinking.

(Okay, here's the deal: I watch Idol, which is largely fluff and crap, while I clean house or make meals for the week. It's perfect filler. Every five minutes, there's an almost-watchable 90 seconds or so.)

I have fallen in love, love, love with the bashful, shy, unsuspecting Melinda Doolittle. She's 29, has been a background singer all her life, and clearly loves herself but feels small against the world. And, my god, the woman can sing. She's the reincarnation of every great black woman singer ever, but she has this sexy, vulnerable little heart.

I don't think she'll ever be a diva, but I see a little vixen in her, and I'm excited because I think we're going to see the birth of a woman who learns over a matter of weeks just how incredible and special and exceptional she is, and I cannot wait to see what the metamorphosis yields. Something melodic and wonderful, I think. And I suspect that such a blossoming might just make her the dark horse to take this whole shindig to the bank.

About time they put someone with real, original talent on that show. Melinda Doolittle's the cat to watch. Take a look at what can happen to a woman who learns how to believe in herself. This is gonna be a beautiful thing.

*As if to mock me and my "spring fever" posting, a freak dump of snow landed on our doorsteps overnight. Still, goodbye winter!