Episode Report Card Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Bo Bice is the New Clay Aiken, Part III
By Jacob Clifton | Season 5 | Episode 3 | Aired on 01.30.2006
It's a slightly affected performance, but charming as hell. Paula's like, "You know when they do profiles on young JT or Britney or whatever?" and Randy's feeling her. The kid has star quality. Paula says he has a "sweet voice," but she doesn't think he's ready for this. He gives a sweet, sad smile. He reminds me so, so much of this man I know in Dallas named Benjamin Bascombe who's a total catch who came from somewhere ridiculous like Kansas -- just that charisma where crazy people, old ladies, all animals flock to him. Like he could walk down the street and it would become by the end of the trip this bizarre parade of people leaving behind very important responsibilities to follow him and see what he's up to. I can't believe after five years Paula has not figured out how to look at a person and rate them on the Zagat dollar-sign scale. Maybe it's just something you're born with. In any case, she's as surprised as ever by Simon saying "I quite like you" and then naming all the demographics that will obsess over him. "I'm the opposite of Paula on this one. You've got my vote." Randy also puts him through, now that Simon has spoken, and William Makar's mouth opens so, so wide and he claps for himself and Ryan's so happy for him that he has to keep touching him, and then when the moms sweep in, Ryan still just stands there smiling and being so sincerely excited for the kid. You take your reward for this stupid job when you can get it -- and I love how Ryan takes full advantage. Imagining what this is like, for him, fills me with happiness. It's like: contemplate what it's actually like to be Paige Davis-Page. We've made the comparison before, due to the Contestant Whispering, but seriously. Besides the gay husband, that's like the best possible. You giggle and mess with Hilde and fight with Doug and hug people. People who are literally weeping with joy. For a living. That's way better than trying on clothes.
Ryan's wrapping up a pretty long day here in "Austin," but has he saved the best for last? No. Why the fuck not? I'd actually be looking forward to next week if we stopped here! Meet the unbelievably depressing Tessie Mae Reid (17, Arlington TX), with that toady, doughy country look, the slit-eyed jealous kind where you know exactly what her mom looks like. (And you do: frizzy fucked-up perm cloud cover so thin you can see her scalp; troubling eye makeup with no other coverage on the face; tight, pursed examples of what in my mother's family they call "the Aunt Pam lips"; lots of turquoise, wood paneling, a truly beloved family dog; paintings of, like, old Navajo women where their back area is also a wolf; that elderly ancient cigarette smell in the car; handmade macramé plant holders in brown and orange wool with huge wooden beads, hanging from fake gold hooks.) She looks like her last name, instead of Reid, which is a good strong name for positive people, should be like "Frunkel" or "Baldcock" or something. Something country and unsightly. She's got loads of mousy, underconditioned brown-colored hair, with two stupid long bleached-out braids punking from her forehead and down her face. She tells us in all seriousness that she's been "compared to Diana Degarmo, and maybe Carrie, because I do sing country, sometimes," like she's in a job interview and not the worst experience of her life. "I've got my own style." And that style: huge, really upsetting and weirdly-packed pink pants, and a stretchy black top. Plus the forehead braids. This is what parents are for, to give you the once-over and then change everything. "I don't fight for the top spot, because I don't think that I need to...Simon's going to love me from the second I walk in." Yeah. He's gonna love this.