Lotti and Kristin went to the American Idols tour. They frighten me.

I didn't watch American Idols, as reality TV shows turn my stomach. But Lotti's recap of the concert was pretty amusing, so I'm reprinting the good bits:

As we pulled into the parking lot we were thrilled to see that we were not the only persons there over 30 not chaperoning a gaggle of 6th graders. However, when the first performer (Ejay Day) yelled out, "How ya feelin' tonight?", our response was still: "OLD!!"

* The five boy finalists (Ejay, AJ, RJ, Jim and Justin -- a future boy band to be titled "A Conspiracy of J's") did a painful group number of the N'Sync song "Pop." They could not dance and it was quite bad.

* Other than said N'Sync number, most of the songs performed tonight were originally recorded long before most of these AI fans were born (Ejay's Janet Jackson cover of "Black Cat," Nikki's "Rhiannnon" by her idol Stevie Nicks, the whole gang on Kool n' the Gang's "Celebration," etc. etc.) -- so why exactly are these folks cool with the youth o' today?

* No matter how great it is that Chicago is his home town (repeated OVER AND OVER) or how deaf his parents are, Jim still can't sing. At all. And his first number was performed in a semi-see-thru white jumpsuit.

* Neither RJ nor his ardent fans realize he is gay yet, but it is precisely that non-threatening, impossibility-of-sex-happening deal that makes him so appealing to all the preteen girls whose high-pitched screams for him have left me as deaf as Jim's parents.

* Ryan Starr galumphed across the stage gracelessly in each number wearing next to nothing. We opined that Penthouse is the only (final) stage of her career left for her to explore.

* Even though no one seemed to care that girls all over the stadium were regularly bursting blood vessels screaming for Justin, RJ, et al, a chorus of disapproving stares fell on me when I suddenly screamed hysterically for EARTH, WIND & FIRE during the disco montage.

* John and Maneesh will be chagrined to discover, when they get home tonight (they went to a sports bar together in protest of our outing), that we are in fact in love with Justin. He rose from the stage tonight in a cloud of fog and sensitive poet's shirt, like some beautiful young god. He lorded over all us mortals with honey-sweet voice, dripping curls and a look of earnest self-satisfaction. There was nothing left to do but strip him down and anoint him with scented holy oils, before he was turned into a phoenix to soar out over the audience, impregnating several young females on his way back to Mount Olympus. Sigh.