Jericho is a guilty TV pleasure

I'm not a television snob. How could I be? I have watched entire seasons of Big Brother. That is not something that should be admitted in polite society.

But I wouldn't describe Big Brother as a guilty pleasure -- because it's missing a crucial ingredient. There is precious little "pleasure" in that series. My only explanation for watching it is that I was, for awhile, a reality TV addict.

For me, it was a backlash against overly drawn out dramatic television. I had begun to feel angry at the producers of shows like Alias and ER and Lost. I told myself that they were, perhaps, doing the best they could. But at some point, you just have to suspect that they never had any plan for, say, the bird that calls out "Hurley." They're just messing with your mind.

I began to wonder if Dr. Green was ever going to die. Did he? I finally gave up.

Reality TV, by contrast, gives you regular opportunities to leave. If Survivor jumps the shark, you can say: "Okay, I'll see if Twyla wins this year. And then I'm done." Every 13 weeks or so, you get to decide whether to re-up. And if you don't, you leave with no dangling story arcs.

But Jericho, despite being so cheesy you could grill it and call it a sandwich, is actually restoring my faith in dramatic television.

It's insultingly optimistic about what a post nuclear war scenario would be like. The dialogue is, frankly, laughable in places. Timeline issues? They've got them. (My husband started yelling at the TV when someone appeared to be watching football on a weekday.) But each week, so far, it's getting a little better.

And most importantly, it is laying out a story -- albeit a ridiculous one -- in a logical fashion. It's got a mysterious character who is, apparently, partly good and partly bad. He is complex and interesting. And -- here's looking at you Lost -- you know more about him now than you did when the season started. We are finding out things, which means the mysteries are more satisfying.

Plus, Skeet Ulrich?

Kind of fun to watch. (Blush.)

Springsteen on American Idol?

There are wars and rumors of wars. There is famine. There is strife. An energy crisis looms. But the surest sign yet of the end times is this: A Springsteen song was sung on American Idol.

On May 16th, leading contestant Taylor Hicks sang Dancing in the Dark - making him the first contestant in the show's five seasons to sing the music of the boss. Hicks thanked Clive Davis for personally appealing to Springsteen for permission to use the song, making the performance possible.

I buried my face in my hands and wept openly.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not an American Idol basher. Sure it's sometimes mean, often bad and frequently shameful in it's drawn-out dramatics. Certainly, it is not a show that will deliver musicians of Springsteen's caliber. But I understand that not all situations call for a genius like Springsteen, an artist who leads and inspires people to improve themselves.

There is room in the world, I would hope, for poets like Springsteen and also for people who just belt out songs suitable for the prom. Why not? You have to play something at the prom!

I even watch American Idol regularly, something that began for me soon after discovering in the middle of the second season - quite by accident - that the sound of Clay Aiken's voice was the only thing that would soothe my colicky baby. I don't understand it. You don't understand it. No one understands it. It is just one of those mysteries of the universe. But it's true. I have witnesses.

My son is no longer colicky, but I continue watching because I developed some sort of Pavlovian response. The opening credits roll and I feel a deep sense of calm, the sort of calm that only a parent of a child who just quit crying can feel. It's a guilty pleasure. What can I say?

But I thought I could keep this separate from my more serious and respectable Springsteen obsession. My husband and I would joke about it sometimes. "When are they going to have Springsteen week on American Idol?" And we'd laugh at the absurdity of the idea! As if Springsteen would agree to let his songs be butchered in such a way!

Who's laughing now?

Well, fair enough. I suppose that Springsteen is as vulnerable to personal appeals from respected old codgers as everyone else. And he certainly doesn't need my permission to do what he wants. And how judgemental can I be, given that I'm the proud author of a book in which a minor European princess uses Springsteen lyrics to plot her career moves. (Princess Izzy and the E Street Shuffle has gotten great reviews. Check them out!)

And if there had to be a Springsten song on American Idol, Dancing in the Dark was as good as any. It's the closest thing to a "prom" song that Springsteen has, right down to the expressed dissatisfaction with appearance.

I felt, surprisingly okay about it -- until Simon Cowell critiqued Hicks' performance by saying it was a pale imitation of the original and the audience actually booed. They were booing the suggestion that Taylor Hicks was not Bruce Springsteen! Let me go lie down!

But then I remembered something. I was a young teen when "Born in the USA" came out. True Bruce Fans didn't like the album. They thought it was too commercial. They thought he had sold out. But I was a silly young thing that didn't even really know who Springsteen was. I didn't care about any of that. I just watched "Dancing in the Dark" on Friday Night Videos and I thought it was sort of fun and that Bruce was sort of cute. So I bought the album. And I listened to songs that were about more important things than not being satisfied with your appearance. And then I bought his other albums and they opened up a new world for me. I suppose you could say they changed my life.

And maybe that will happen again now. Out there in a troubled nation are 13-year-old girls who have never heard Nebraska or Darkness on the Edge of the Town. But will like the song that Hicks sang and give some Springsteen a try. And maybe it will change their life too.

And viewed that way, the sound of Springsteen on American Idol isn't a sign of the end, but of some kind of beginning!