American Idols in Philly

Dear June,

Your parents were goobers and went to the American Idol concert last night. Daddy said he was being ironical, but Mommy saw him cheering for his favorites without once looking at his watch. Aunt Mel and Uncle Sean had unabashed fun too, sipping oversized sodas and photographing wildly as Ace pounded his chest during “Father Figure”, Paris shook her moneymaker and Taylor actually did some justice to “Do I Make You Proud”, despite his signature stroke victim moves and extra shiny jacket.

As for Mommy, she found herself loving Mandisa all over again and nurturing an under-developed crush on Chris Daughtry, who was so obviously robbed in this competition. For a good fifteen minutes, the show resembled a rock concert while he took the stage, and the crowd went positively nuts, but eventually reverted back to the laser-lit choreographed talent show (brought to you by PopTarts!) and ended with an undeniably cheesy finale, replete with a full-company rendition of “We are the Champions/Living in America”.

We told ourselves, June, that one day you’ll be nine years old and want to go to concerts like this and won’t yet have developed your cynical side (at least we hope not). We told ourselves that this was good practice for when we take you to a big prefab pop concert and that now we know we can sit through it… but the plain truth is that we really enjoyed ourselves (despite having just seen a two-hour commercial for American Idol Season Six) and we’re not embarrassed to admit it.

We’re sorry honey. Mommy and Daddy are goobers.