Good word

"Mayor Ray Nagin of New Orleans caused a controversy by saying that when New Orleans is rebuilt it will be a 'chocolate city.' Nagin went on to say that chocolate New Orleans will be protected by a system of graham cracker levees."

-- Conan O'Brien

False idols

After watching last week's installment of "American Idol," I must say (and I know I'm not the first to say it): The singers who do well on the show may be skillful, but they sound alike -- bland, boy-bandish. The singing has much fancy technique, but not much heart. What would happen if, say, Lester Flatt auditioned? He would be dismissed, after being mocked and derided.

I'd forgotten that I Tivoed "American Idol" at all, but then I read the editorial in today's New York Times that denounces the show for, in its early rounds, inviting talentless people to audition only so the judges can ridicule them for the television audience. The editorial says of the contestants,

Many appear terribly vulnerable and some seem to border on mentally impaired. The fun is supposed to come from seeing the celebrity judges roll their eyes, laugh, and tell them that they are tone-deaf, fat, funny-looking or, in the case of one young man, "atrocious" and "confused." (The cameras followed him out of the audition room, the better to make sport of him crying with his family.)

I'm with the Times on this. I get very uncomfortable watching people being made fools of, which is why I loathe practical jokes. I realize that no one auditions unwillingly, but the judging is startlingly, mercilessly cruel, and the cameras are unflinching.

Particularly dismaying was the finale of the episode I watched, which was promoted by teasers throughout the broadcast. What was so extraordinary about the last candidate? He committed the unpardonable sin of not being as gifted as Clay Aiken, yes -- but also, his gender was ambiguous. In case anyone missed the fact, host Ryan Seacrest repeatedly pointed it out in the teasers. And in case anyone missed those, there was a closeup of judge Simon Cowell making bug eyes at the sight of a well-meaning young man in high heels and plunging neckline. And in case anyone missed that, the last shots of the weeping, humiliated candidate were accompanied by "The Crying Game," the song by transgendered Boy George from the movie of the same name, about a transgendered character.

Could it get more witless, obvious, exploitative, offensive? Another triumph for humanity. I fart on "American Idol."

Good word

"Most people are also scared of the act of writing; even the professional writer faces his daily task with a nervousness that never quite goes away."

William Zinsser, Writing with a Word Processor

Regional cuisine

As regular readers know, I love barbecue -- which, because I am from Nashville, means smoked pulled pork. That means I'm always on the lookout for a new outlet when I visit my hometown, as I did last weekend.

But I wasn't expecting to find the stuff at the taco company. One of my favorite restaurants in high school was the San Antonio Taco Company, a Vanderbilt University hangout that has very good food at outrageously reasonable prices. So check out their build-your-own-taco menu, which features, among other dishes: the pulled pork fajita.

That, as they say in Nashville, is so Nashville.

More shameless self-promotion

Madison Mayor Dave Cieslewicz asked me to join the committee choosing Madison's official song, in honor of the city's 150th birthday. I couldn't be more honored and delighted. There are many notables on the committee's roster, including the directors of the Madison Symphony Orchestra and the Wisconsin Chamber Orchestra, and a handful of Madison's most prominent musicians.

I already have a pretty good idea which song ought to be the official one, but I'm entering this project with an open mind.

Read all about it here.

Every day I write

A big fat envelope came in the mail today, and what do you suppose it was? My book! Yes, friends, yours truly has now been published in book form, and they can't take that away from me.

The tome in question is 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, to which dozens of writers contributed short tributes to great records. A sequel of sorts to 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, 1001 Albums is published by Britain's Quintet Publishing, and according to the Amazon entry, it's due out Feb. 7.

It's funny how this all came about. My old grad school friend Alison, a Londoner, dates the book's project director. She knew I was always game for freelance writing work, and that I had expertise in country music. And so I joined the team -- one of the book's Leading International Critics, as the jacket says -- to review albums by the likes of Willie Nelson and Loretta Lynn, Waylon Jennings and Lucinda Williams.

My first book. Hot damn.

Greetings from Mt. Juliet

I write to you this morning from Mt. Juliet, Tenn., an eastern suburb of Nashville. I lived here my senior year of high school, after my family and I emigrated from the Music City.

I always love coming home, not least because there are so many marvelous sights and stories. I'll tell you about just two of them for now.

• Near Mt. Juliet is the city of Lebanon, the seat of Wilson County. My parents and I drove through Lebanon yesterday, and Dad pointed out one of the distinctive local businesses: a store that sells Bibles and used household appliances. On the sign out front is a scriptural reference to the Gospel of Luke, but not the actual scripture. For that, you'll have to come inside.
• My stepmother tells me that when she was a girl, her father fried Krispy Kreme doughnuts for the family breakfast. Hot doughnuts now, indeed.

I'll have more to say about my trip after I get home. Love ya!