Lots will be made of American Idol holding auditions in Birmingham, Ala., which is home to Ruben Studdard, Bo Bice and Taylor Hicks. But, will it produce another champion?

Early word out of Paula Abdul's mouth was that a curly headed kid was the early favorite to win the whole competition. She was referring to Chris Sligh, of Greenville, S.C., who blew her away with a rendition of Seal's "Kiss From A Rose" and a dry wit.

Noting that his aspiration was to make David Hasselhoff cry, Sligh had the judges laughing until Simon and Paula acknowledged that they had no idea to what he was referring. That sort of shocked me given that I had always presumed they watched the shows back on air.

Hasselhoff supposedly wiped away a tear during Taylor Hicks' performance at the end of last season. However, the Baywatch and Knight Rider star acknowledged, if I remember right, that he had been talking to somebody sitting next to him about a buddy of his dying from brain cancer. In other words, the tear was out of context.

Nevertheless, to me, Sligh's audition was by far the highlight of Birmingham. While I love Seal, I despise "Kiss From A Rose," particularly when compared to "Crazy" and "Prayer For The Dying," but it fit Chris' voice to a 'T,' and even when it cracked a little, there was still something stylistically pleasing about the performance.

Of all the people who have auditioned so far, he's probably the one I'm most likely to latch onto, to root for. Really liked Sundance Head, and for that matter, I liked Sean Michel. Jordin Sparks was great, and I am pretty sure she'll be in the Top 12.

However, Chris Sligh will 100 percent for-sure be in the Top 12. There is no doubt in my mind. None.

If I had one piece of advice for the guy it would be to roll with that whole Meat Loaf thing. Marvin Aday is a terrific singer (and vastly underrated actor) and has a charisma that has won him over with generations of people even though he's not a model nor is he a typical pop star.

He just has a good voice and is captivating on stage.

Do that.

Truth is, we only get to see a minute or two of each of these singers. Bernard Williams, 26, had what sounded to be a pleasant, clean voice, and I love Rod Temperton's classic "Rock With You." However, when matched against Sligh's ability and personality, it's clear to me that the Idol 12 this season will have not only solid musical abilities but also public-ready personalities.

Birmingham had its share of sob stories, including one from a young singer named Nichole from Muskogee, Okla. I spent five years there, and so I'm naturally ready to root from anybody in that part of the country. However, the judges didn't care for her voice, saying she sounded like an old soul.

However, she had a great a**.

So did Jamie Ward, who got to Hollywood on the strength of her singing Christina Aguilera's hit "Reflection" and a tremendous backstory. Her father is paralyzed from the neck down.

Do you want to know why?

He shot himself when he caught his wife with another man. Shot himself in the throat.

Unfortunately for Ward, central casting provided her with a Kellie Pickler accent and not nearly the overall personality.

Our favorite show is headed to Hollywood; however, it's a trip to San Antonio that has the Idol community buzzing. A group of students from the University of Oklahoma, called by producers the Oklahoma 5 has bloggers and critics speculating quite a bit.

You know I'll be ready to talk up some fellow Sooners at any point. However, until then, it's on to Hollywood ...

Oddly enough, I was pretty pumped when I heard Oklahoma won the Miss America pageant for the second consecutive year. Not sure why, I have zero interest in it and in pageants in general, although they can be a good timewaste if nothing else is on the tube.

Nevertheless, Lauren Nelson's win gives Oklahoma six Miss Americas, so I thought I'd rank the other five based on nothing more than what I was feeling at lunch. Blame Quizno's.

• 5 - Norma Smallwood


• 4 - Shawntell Smith


• 3 - Jennifer Berry


• 2 - Susan Powell


• 1 - Jane Jayroe

I've never really paid attention to how well ryanwelton.com does in terms of stats. However, I'm posting regularly enough now that it does interest me.

One of the pieces of data that interests me is the search strings people use to find the site. Well, like Idol does on American television, it dominates Web queries that lead to me.

Sure, I wish things like "cute guy" and "awesome musician" led to me; however, I'm glad folks are finding the site because of our favorite show. Alas, I present to you January 2007 search strings people Googled to get to me.

Considering we're about to feel winter's wrath the next couple of weeks across the South, the Midwest and the East, I thought I'd outline five American cities I would absolutely consider living in given my disdain for winter weather.

While I like snow, I hate: ice, sleet, freezing rain, cold wind, cold, gray skies, Christmas music (except "Grandma ...") and Santa Claus.

I don't do winter. However, I'd do these five cities in a heartbeat. Just pay my moving bill and set me up to work remotely:

• Houston - Particularly the Clear Lake area on south toward Galveston.


• San Diego - The perfect American city.


• Los Angeles - Orange County.


• Corpus Christi - I can't swim but I love living close to water.


• Austin - I know I'm a Sooner, but this is a wonderful city and area.

Always on the lookout for great new music, I've hit on a London-based Lebanese singer-songwriter who's most recently garnered fame as the object of Perez Hilton's musical adoration.

His name is Mika, and his breakthrough hit is called Grace Kelly. Well, I don't know how much of a hit it'll be here in the states. It's a tad flamboyant for American radio, I suspect.

However, in my book, the dude's talent is undeniable. Enjoy.

Here's a link to the song's lyrics in case you have a bit of trouble understanding what he's singing.

Each morning at the station, we have an editorial meeting to discuss news we plan to cover. It also serves as a venue for us to discuss what's happening in the world today, in general, and what happened the night before.

Even though Idol isn't an ABC show, it always comes up on Wednesday and Thursday mornings.

This week, our assistant news director pointed out that his trouble with the show was that as far as talents go, singing is pretty overrated. Heck, he noted, you can go to just about every town in America and find a few really excellent singers.

The real talent, he noted, was in songwriting.

I don't think he knows that I've spent the better part of the past 20 years cultivating songwriting abilities. I've probably written 400 to 500 songs during that time, of which maybe 30 or 40 are real keepers in my book.

And, I sing every day, although my standards in that arena are definitely low. Anybody who's heard my tracks knows this! Anybody who's seen and heard me at a karaoke bar after seven scotch and waters knows this! With that said, over the years, I've really mastered the science of recording a line or two at a time in hopes that I can record demos that are at least on key.

Self-deprecation aside, his comment got me to thinking.

What does require more talent: singing or songwriting?

There is no wrong answer to this question. Whether you have an ounce of music experience or 30 years under your belt, there can be valid but personal reasons for your preference. For example, perhaps you listen to music for nothing other than big choruses and pretty melodies. A great singer is probably a top criterion for your level of musical enjoyment.

On the other hand, many music fans really appreciate the content of songs. The stories. The lyrical craftsmanship. The meaning and social importance, or perhaps just the visceral great hook. A great songwriter is probably the top criterion for your level of musical happiness.

Well, here's my take. Take it for what you will.

First, almost anybody on the planet can sing with the exception of people who can't speak, and even some mutes can put together combinations of tones that resemble singing. I'm guessing that the dudes who have to wear the voice boxes because of cancer or a tracheaotomy probably can't muster anything resembling an attempt at singing.

However, almost anybody on Mother Earth can also write songs with the exception of people who don't know any words. I thought about this, and even people who can't read or write, so long as their memories are in tact, can technically write songs, just to the same extent that mutes can sing.

All one needs to sing is a voice, and all one needs to write songs is a voice and a memory. Those are the minimum requirements.

Let me break down what I've learned about songwriting over the years in a way that, I hope, anybody can understand. First, while it's not imperative that a songwriter be able to play an instrument, it sure does make things a bit easier, particularly if recording any of these original tunes is in your plans.

I've played piano since I was 3, which means I've played for 33 years. Technically, I am a professional musician. I absolutely could make it a career if I wanted to and could afford to. I mention this because there are tons of people who brag about how long they've played an instrument but really can't play at a level that reflects how long they have known how to play.

And, I have made money in songwriting, although I can't say I've come out even on the deal. Composition, for me, is a labor of 100 percent love. I use a Korg Triton to sequence music, and I play a Yamaha S90 when I'm just looking for a singer-songwriter piano vibe. I record into a Korg D1200 digital recorder, and at times will play my cheap-o $300 Guitar Center guitar.

I should note emphatically that I can't play the guitar at a professional level. Heck, I really kinda suck at it; however, again, it's a labor of love. Learning to play a new instrument is like learning a foreign language. The beauty of trying to learn guitar after playing the piano for so long is that it's like trying to learn Italian after mastering Spanish -- it's really a pretty easy transition -- although the linguistic comparison I'd make between piano and guitar is more like Spanish and French. The piano is to the organ as Spanish is to Italian. That's the better comparison there.

When I was 16, one of my best friends and I would just sit down at a piano and write whatever came to our heads. At the time, I was just a kid, and lyrical content was completely unimportant to me. Write catchy tunes, which we were both pretty good at for beginners. Compose some big ballads, and hope the girls notice.

They did, well, while I was in high school.

Long story short, after a period of four years or so in which publishers basically laughed at my submissions because of lyrics, I decided I had to get serious about learning the craft of songwriting. And, that's what songwriting is: a craft. Just like painting. Sculpting. Novel writing. Knitting.

What does one need to know or do to become a good songwriter?

1. Understand different types of song form. This can be achieved by listening to a wide variety of music all the time. I literally spend upwards of 20 to 30 hours per week listening to music, mostly for fun. Like great writers spend time reading great writing, aspiring songwriters must listen to great writing. I'd argue that aspiring songwriters should listen to all writing, good and horrific, particularly considering that songs are only 3:00 to 4:00 apiece. Learn to recognize what you love as well as what makes you cringe.
   
   What a writer needs to understand about song form includes things like how to develop verses as opposed to choruses. How to build bridges and where to build them. Understanding the value of simplicity and repetition. How to rhyme skillfully, and how to create lines that tell stories or evoke feelings in such a way that avoids cliche.



2. Master the metaphor. Songs are not like procedural crime dramas. They are not built literally to be chronological stories, although progressing the storyline is particularly important in writing for country radio. However, many of the greatest songs of all time are built on metaphors: Looking Through the Eyes of Love, Total Eclipse of the Heart, Smells Like Teen Spirit.
   
   When I was 20, my buddy and I put together a song called, "Heaven's Just A Heartbeat Away." The spirit of the song centered on a young woman who was so special that she figuratively takes the guy to "heaven." However, the reality of the tune sounded like the man intended to kill her. The use of metaphor was terrible.



3. Learn how to write a melody line. I'll give you the best piece of advice I ever got about writing melody lines. It came from the father of my writing buddy. Chelsea told us one day: The greatest choruses on Earth go up.
   
   He meant that, from a verse or a bridge to a chorus, the writer would be best served to write a melody whose notes moved up the scale. While, technically, great choruses can be written going downscale ("I Don't Have the Heart," from James Ingram is a good example.), beginners should focus on moving up the scale melodically. It's fail-safe.



4. Master the chorus. Simply put, great verses will win you awards, accolades and critical acclaim. But, great choruses sell records. Personally, if there is a subject or storyline I have in mind for a new song, the first thing I always do is write the title. It's the first thing a publisher or record producer will see, and something like "I Love You, Baby" had better be a damned great song for it to overcome such a trite title.
   
   My favorite titles among the songs I've written the past few years are "Even Rebels Get The Blues" and "Cool Like Kelsey." The latter is an instrumental, so it doesn't quite fit into this discussion. However, the former puts a vision into your imagination as to what the song is about.

On its own, a great song will be at its greatest with just a piano or guitar and vocal. Seriously, the David Fosters of the world will know whether your song is great with nothing more than one instrument and a vocal. However, the way the *real* music world works is that one must arrange tunes in a certain style to evoke a certain sound to evoke ideas as to who would be best to record a song. That process can lead to overproduction; however, production is beyond the scope of this discussion.

It's about singing and songwriting.

It helps to have a good singer singing your original music. Truth be told, almost anybody can be taught to write songs. However, to do it well requires a ton of commitment. Sure, there are people just born with the talent; however, the rest of us work and work to cultivate our abilities in hopes that one day we might be pretty good. There is truly nothing more creatively satisfying than writing an original piece of music. It lives forever.

However, put a suck vocal on top of your great song, and you've just ruined the piece. Many of my demos over the years have had sucky vocals on them. I am not a great singer; however, I have pretty good tone from time to time. Likewise, I do know how to sing on-key, and fortunately, I know how to produce enough so that I can make that happen on a consistent basis most of the time.

Yet, I'd never get a golden ticket to Hollywood. Heck, based on what I know of American Idol, I wouldn't even get a chance to see the three judges. I'm in that gray area between decent singer and terrible singer, just a bland, who-cares, everybody-in-the-church-choir-can-sing-as-good-as-you sort of area.

On the other hand, I've been fortunate enough over the years to know some great singers, the best of whom is one of my bestest buddies from the Ft. Worth area. She has great technique, great tone and a bucketful of soul, and you know what?

She worked her butt off to achieve it and to maintain it.

Vocal exercises in the car to and from work. Practices. Lessons (even after many years of singing). Tea. Honey. Steam. Whiskey.

Truth is, I'm probably diminishing what she does and has done to master her instrument. While a singing voice is something almost everyone has, many Idol critics don't understand what comprises a great one. They vastly underestimate the level of talent required to develop and keep a great vocal sound.

She won't go to karaoke bars because, as she has noted, it's just a bunch of bad-singing drunks. To a serious vocalist, karaoke is damn near an insult because it can lead to this perception that good singing is ubiquitous.

So, to my colleague who said that one could probably find four or five great singers in every American town, I would disagree wholeheartedly. My estimate is that, at least within the realm of modern music (discounting opera or chorales), there might only be 5,000 great voices in the entire United States.

If you asked me, Idol has only produced seven great singers in five seasons. I don't mean good. I mean great:

• Kelly Clarkson


• Clay Aiken


• Kimberly Locke


• Fantasia Barrino


• Jennifer Hudson


• Carrie Underwood


• Elliot Yamin

For a show that is supposed to be about singing, only seven great vocalists, even for my standards, is pretty low, no? Truth is, a show like Idol, like the music industry itself is about way more than technical ability. It's about substance and style, image and connections.

For example, Taylor Hicks isn't the best vocalist on Earth by any means, but he had a boatload of charisma and a ton of soul. Chris Daughtry had ability and image. Bo Bice had ability and charisma. Diana DeGarmo had mega spunk. Tamyra Gray, too.

In my estimation, it is impossible to take just anyone and turn them into a good singer. Although one Idol hopeful this week begged the judges to turn her tone-deafness into something worthy of a great vocalist, her case was hopeless.

That is most often physically impossible. You either have some semblance of singing ability or you do not. Whether you can turn that semblance of ability into something resembling a great voice depends on many, many factors.

On the other hand, developing a good songwriter is much easier if that person is willing to work. In the end, I think one could surmise that to become a great songwriter is to emulate other good songwriters while making it seem as if you're original.

The emulation is easy; the latter is talent.

Perhaps that's where folks like my colleague agree to disagree. In the end, Christina Aguilera's voice might be considered to be great by most fans of pop music and the entire industry. However, whoever wrote "Smells Like Teen Spirit" or "Cats in the Cradle" or "Fire and Rain," etc., is truly carrying with him or her a giant bag of genius.

However, in this world, people opt to be out front, to try to be the star, to be famous, and therefore, an opinion is developed making it seem as if great vocalists are a dime a dozen.

So, to answer the original question, "What takes the most talent, singing or songwriting?" I suppose the answer would lie in how much you value vocals or even in how much you understand what comprises a great singer. On the face of it, the talent is in the singing, I'd say.

However, by far, the artistic achievement is in the songwriting.

A great singer will eventually die. A great song never will.

My buddy T was having a bit of an issue posting a comment to the blog (unfortunately, blogger only supports IE), so I thought I'd hook him up with his own post. Like me, he is a true-blue Stevie Wonder fan. Like me, he cringes at "I Just Called To Say I Love You."

So, here's a little Gene Siskel to my Roger Ebert, old school.

T's Top 5 Stevie tunes ...

• Superstition


• Higher Ground


• You Are The Sunshine Of My Life


• I Wish


• Sir Duke

Our favorite show has featured many outrageous auditions; however, few have been deserving of their own comedy program. Wednesday night's NYC auditions featured somebody who I am prepared to dub as absolutely brilliant. Comedic genius, well, if I thought he was trying to be funny.

He's the brilliant Ian Bernardo butchering "Gloria" while being as funny as hell, definitely getting under Simon Cowell's British skin.

Not sure if this guy is acting or what, but he auditioned for Fox' summer hit, "So You Think You Can Dance?" and was equally outrageous. What the video doesn't show is his flamboyant temper-tantrum outside the audition room. It was pure, well, brilliance.

A new feature to ryanwelton.com, a little something I hope will spark some discussion or at least some vitriol my way.

Lists. Top 5 lists. Why? Because everybody loves lists (stole that from my favorite radio station of all time).

Considering we're in the throes of the beginnings of a new Idol season, I thought I'd throw out my five favorite Stevie Wonder songs. Goodness knows we'll hear plenty of his music over the next five months.

Here goes. My favorite Stevie songs, in no particular order:

• For Once In My Life


• Do I Do


• Knocks Me Off My Feet


• Heaven Help Us All


• Livin' For The City

Discuss. Tell me I'm wrong. List yours.

Wednesday's episode of our favorite show offered an incomplete songwriting lesson for 1980s music aficiandoes, as Carole Bayer Sager joined the judges for a Gotham soiree.

Specifically, Idol failed to note that the great Peter Allen wrote "Arthur's Theme" with Sager. Not a big deal, but Allen's general pop greatness has never been and never will be espoused enough, given that he's been dead for nearly 20 years.

Nevertheless, it was New York. There should be some big talent, right?

Well, I'm stuck on last night in Memphis. Specifically, Sean Michel, whose audition video you can watch here. Remember, he's the guy who looks like Castro, but who sang Johnny Cash's "God's Gonna Cut You Down" with some Arkansas backwoods, foot-stompin' blue-eyed soul.

My initial thoughts about this cat were that while he was good, he was just too darned weird. However, rewatching his audition video, I really dig this guy's overall vibe. Plus, I love how the posters on his YouTube page get on there and rave about how this couldn't have happened to a nicer dude.

It really makes you want to pull for the guy.

Alas, New York was all about mediocre talent, if you're asking me. Outside of a contestant from Virginia named Chris Richardson, the Big Apple was chock full of contestants who will be out of the competition before the Top 24 is set.

Unless the producers haven't introduced us to somebody really great. It happens.

There were some good backstories though. Jenry and his Burmese mother. The chick with the chiseled body who went through this Rocky Balboaeque routine to get into shape for the competition. I love that.

Sarah Burgess and her unsupportive father, who really didn't sound all that upset, was a decent story. She was a bit fragile for my taste, but Idol is all about the heart tug.

None of them though came close to Sundance Head, Sean Michel or even Melinda Doolittle, all three of whom were Memphis auditioners from Tuesday night. Oddly enough, one of the NYC contestants remarked that Gotham would bring a winner to Idol, ending the stranglehold the South has had on the show since its inception.

Kelly Clarkson - Texas.

Ruben Studdard - Alabama.

Fantasia Barrino - North Carolina.

Carrie Underwood - Oklahoma.

Taylor Hicks - Alabama.

Well, I have a theory as to why the South has this stranglehold and why it will continue. It's no conspiracy. In fact, it's very much at the root of Southern social life.

However, that's for another day.

Perhaps before Tuesday, when Idol takes us to Birmingham, Ala., and introduces us to Chris Sligh. In fact, there is something distinct about his background that plays into my reasoning about Southern contestants.

On to 'Bama.

Seems the friendly and very funny octogenarian who called the Ellen show last week was the brainchild of an Austin, Texas, radio station.

Gladys Hardy had America in stitches with one line: I love Jesus, but I drink a little.

Alas, Ellen's been had. Either way, darned funny -- and it could bear funny fruit should DeGeneres decide to get comic revenge.

***

Also, TMZ.com is reporting that Rachel Ray revealed her true colors after several glasses of red wine after a recent Houston dinner party, possibly exposing the Food Network darling as a racist.

I find it hard to believe; however, I had also hoped she'd leave her husband and move to Oklahoma. Doubt that's happening.

Unfortunately for Ray, where there's smoke, there is often fire, and disparaging Oprah in public -- for somebody whose career is owed quite a bit to the queen -- is a mega no-no. A career killer if true.

I mean, Oprah had James Frey ready to kill himself just a year ago ...

Don't mess with the Big O.

American Idol Season 6 has its first legitimate contender.

It was almost a decade ago that my bandmates and I learned how to play a 1960s tune called "Treat Her Right," a song made popular by blue-eyed soul singer (and Texas native) Roy Head. Well, Roy's boy decided to audition for our favorite show, and he belted the blues like somebody in Memphis should.

Sporting a big-ol' goatee, some chains, spiky hair on his head and heavy curls on his chest, Sundance Head was introduced to America on Tuesday night. The guy sang "Stormy Monday," and belted it clean out the FedEx Forum.

Simon Cowell said he'd be stunned if Sundance didn't make the finals (meaning the Top 12). You can book it; Sundance will be there. However, it won't be without some issues. Insider blogs are noting that Sundance actually had a bit of trouble in Hollywood but made the Top 24 anyway.

He's unique, and he's all blues. While the show kinda had a white-boy blues thing going with Bo Bice, he was really more about southern rock. Sundance is a big-ol boy with some meat on his bones and a Marlboro Reds voice.

It will be very interesting to see how he progresses once America's votes come into play.

Also impressive tonight was a backup singer named Melinda Doolittle. Why do I think we'll see her on some VH1 Behind the Music special remembering when she used to be called Melinda Doolittle, before she changed her name to whatever?

It struck me odd that she didn't actually have a neck -- or so it seemed -- and that her voice was so deep for a woman. Very baritone. While I didn't care for her vibrato (very sheep-ish, baa baa), there was a good amount of soul in her voice, enough to make her a probability for the Top 24.

While there were plenty of bad singers in Memphis, there was the rare combination of a very, very odd good singer. His name is Sean Michel, and he hails from just south of Little Rock, Ark.

And, he looks like Fidel Castro.

My friends here in Norman might agree; he actually looks like one of the guys in a now-defunct local band here called Bridge Road Caravan. What's odd about this cat is that he went to school, I think, at Ouachita Baptist University, and that he can sing. Reminded me of Kenny Loggins.

Good Kenny Loggins, not that Pooh stuff he sings now.

Unfortunately, for our resident Castro lookalike, I'm betting he doesn't make it too far in Hollywood. However, I'm pulling for the guy. I love it when Idol defies Hollywood convention by picking folks who look like they need to be flea-dipped.

It wouldn't be Idol without the syrupy-sweet story, and Phil Stacey, who hails originally from Shawnee, Okla., provided it. His daughter was born the morning of his Idol audition.

There is a part of me who wonders what this guy's major malfunction is that he's at an audition (personally, I could not care less that it's Idol) instead of the birth of his daughter. On the other hand, this was the last year he could do this given Idol's age limits, and success would mean significant opportunity for his family.

Let's give the boy the benefit of the doubt. Could he sing? Uh, after the first note, he was alright. However, his first notes are among the most interesting first notes in vocal history. They sound painfully orgasmic, and I don't think I mean that as a compliment.

On the other hand, there's the nice backstory, and his name is mentioned often in blogs and message boards as being a Top 24 contender. While he was originally from Shawnee, I do believe he graduated from high school in Wichita, Kan., and is going to college at Liberty University.

The combo of Kansas and Liberty University might be too much for me to handle for more than about one Hollywood episode before I start rooting for laryngitis.

However, it's quite possible we'll see Stacey, Doolittle and Head (sounds like a weird law firm) in a Top 24 show soon. If you were to force me to place a bet though, Sundance Head is a sure-thing Top 12 finalist.

I do think his name will pose a conundrum for the show's producers, who will have to eyeball every sign in the audience for ones that make obscene references, such as "Give me Head!" or "Great Head!"

Nonetheless, for those of you who continue to poo-poo the musicality of the show, it's dudes like Head who legitimize the program. We'll see if his style translates to something other than blues.

On to New York.

In the span of five minutes, I saw two University of Oklahoma coaches -- one a legend, the other a newbie -- at a local grocery store in Norman on Sunday.

As I moved from the produce section to Albertson's conventional aisles, there was 69-year-old Barry Switzer pushing a cart like any other old man in central Oklahoma.

Five minutes later, I saw current OU basketball coach Jeff Capel and his wife -- both obviously dressed for church (she was gorgeous) -- rushing through the store to pick up a few staples before Sunday lunch. The 32-year-old Capel looked absolutely lost, I think, searching for a 12-pack of caffeine-free Diet Coke.

Switzer looked like he had just bitten hard on a lemon.

Capel looked like he would rather be anywhere else than in a grocery store right that second. His Cadillac Escalade had the look of a desert roamer in need of a bath, which isn't uncommon to most vehicles in this part of the Sooner State after two winter weekends in the past 10 days. I felt a sense of overworked camaraderie with the coach, knowing that neither one of us has the time to keep our cars clean.

I can't begin to imagine the amount of pressure on a college coach. Sure, there's plenty of perks; however, eyes are on you all the time. Everybody wants a piece of you. Everybody has a criticism.

Is it worth it to make $1M a year? Is it worth it to be ultra-popular?

I don't think so. To be the head coach of an OU sports team is about the last thing I'd ever want to do. No freakin' thanks.

However, teaching young people how to play a sport and, hopefully, build character has never been my talent, my gift if you will.

And, I wondered on Sunday whether big-time coaches or, frankly, anybody else famous and rich looked upon their vocation as being in line with their God-given gifts. While not nearly as dramatic as the gifts introduced to us by characters on NBC's hit show, Heroes, which returned Monday night from a two-month hiatus, our gifts deserve the attention and cultivation this collection of list-dwellers offers theirs.

"What you can do. What I can do. That is God. Respect their calling," the Haitian told the cheerleader.

Claire Bennet feels like she has been abandoned. Her "father" has wiped the memories of several of the cheerleader's classmates and is under the impression that her memory, particularly the knowledge of her gift, is no more, too.

She feels alone, yet the Haitian can only advise her that she isn't and that she should respect her gift. Her abilities are above her feelings.

There is a philosophical, spiritual undercurrent to Heroes that fascinates me greatly. Monday night's highly anticipated return of NBC's new cult hit was quite short on details but long on that brand of heavy thinking that won over so many people last fall.

The essence of Monday night's episode was that these gifts were bigger than the individuals to whom they belonged, causing some to behave irrationally. Not that rationality is Hiro Nakamura's strong suit, yet his theft of what turned out to be a bogus sword while having only a fraction of his time-stopping power let us relive a bit of the celebratory excitement we had when Hiro first teleported himself to New York City from Japan.

He did it! Again!

Well, almost. Tonight's primary developments were that Hiro met up with both Isaac Mendez and Nathan Petrelli at the same time, a new hero was introduced (an invisible man) and that plans were initiated to get our new television friends to Las Vegas, home to a man with the ability to blow himself and an entire city to smithereens.

Yet, the story's progression, to me, is secondary to its philosophical undercurrent. For me. Maybe not for you.

The grand question is: What spiritual, moral, personal obligation do we have to respect our gifts? To develop them? To use them?

Personally, I believe we are spiritually, morally and personally obligated to not waste our talents. How one defines talent and identifies them in individuals will differ based on a billion different factors in a billion different cultures.

We're required, I think, at an individual level to hold ourselves accountable for how we manage those gifts. We're fools to waste them; however, I find it hard to believe I would enjoy being forced to use them under the pressure our Heroes face.

Berry Tramel, sports columnist extraordinaire of newsok.com, issued a review of "Rocky Balboa" for Monday's editions ...

He pretty much mirrored my comments: It was a really, really good if not great movie, a film about growing old way more than one about boxing.

Two months after seeing it, I can't agree with my assessment that it might get an Oscar nod. That's a giant stretch, even for a sentimentalist.

However, the movie's greatness still stands.

From wikipedia.com:

*** In an episode of Family Guy, an unnamed character remarks that, after licking a drug-laced frog, he "finally gets Aaron Sorkin's Sports Night: It's a comedy that's too good to be funny." ***

A colleague lent me the entire "Sports Night" series on DVD. It seems that anybody who works in television loved this show, although I didn't actually work in television when the show aired from 1998-2000. However, I loved SportsCenter. I dig romantic comedies, and I admire great dialogue.

I've watched five episodes so far this weekend, and the show still holds up except that the laugh track really, really, really makes me cringe. Television, particularly good television, has come a long way.

What I did find funny is that Ted McGinley appeared in Sports Night's fourth episode, in what should have been some foreshadowing for the world's preeminent shark jumper.

However, what most critics and that wikipedia entry don't mention is that it was right after McGinley appeared on Sports Night that the show went from an oddity featuring repartee to a critical but terribly underpromoted cult hit.

It was Episode 5 that, I think, turned the show's fortunes. It's titled "Mary Pat Shelby," and I do believe the laugh track was turned off.

The episode dealt with a jackass athlete (Christian Patrick) and his behavior toward Natalie. You have to understand: I think most men who love this show harbor a pretty deep crush on Natalie.

I do. Everybody to whom I've ever discussed the show does.

This turd deigned to f*** with Natalie, and it caught our attention. Alas, the show demonstrated itself to be effective at handling serious subject matter, and it did so in a way that holds true to television, particularly the adrenalin a station would have if that situation happened.

I know I've got this cool new site design and all, but for the best Idol information out there right now, there has been no better blog -- in my opinion -- than this one, done by somebody (I think) named Jenny Giotti.

If you're not familiar with MySpace, you can subscribe to it such that you get an e-mail anytime she updates her site. It's pretty apparent that she has some connections with the show and some pretty regular contact with contestants (although, you might notice below that I got pinged by none other than the yet-to-be-seen-on-TV Chris Sligh).

Ahhh yeah, fro patro represent.

Alas, where most blogs seem to gather information from other sources (ahem, me), Jenny's is producing what looks to be some original info, such as the fact that our favorite Indian siblings apparently won't be headed to the Top 24 together.

Word is Sanjaya is headed to the court of public opinion, and Shymali is headed home on the last day of Hollywood Week.

Also, Jenny has posted an excellent find -- a photo of Minnesota contestant Michelle Steingas hittin' a beer bong and documentation of MySpace information relative to some alleged drug use. It shouldn't be a big deal; there were rampant rumors and stories about Kelli Pickler's past (along the same lines).

My Quick List For 1.21.07

Songs that I listened to on the way to work today at 6:30 a.m. and on the way back home at 8 a.m. when I discovered ice was crashing down at our cars from the TV tower ...

1. "Leavin' On A Jet Plane" - John Denver

2. "Faded Pictures" - Case & Joe

3. "Step By Step" - the great Eddie Rabbitt

4. "Bring Me To Life" - Evanescence

5. "It Might Be You" - Stephen Bishop

The Rosie O'Donnell-Donald Trump feud seems to be over as the provocative host of ABC's The View decided to take on the most popular show on television.

Rosie has deigned to take on Idol, saying the Fox mega hit is too mean, as evidenced by Wednesday night's Seattle auditions. Elisabeth Hasselbeck, Joy Behar et al decided to join the plump comedienne in her criticism of our favorite show.

However, it's a criticism that's introduced and reintroduced year after year. Rosie's assertion that Idol judges make too much of appearance and behave cruelly toward auditioners is not exactly worthy of a patent. However, suggestions in the media that Season 6 has been more cruel and mean relative to past seasons is worth consideration.

Nevertheless, I don't see any difference. Last season, Mandisa -- who made the Top 12 -- left a successful audition to the sound of Simon saying, "Guess we're going to need a bigger stage."

This season, the megamillionaire-probably-billionaire referred to Kenneth Briggs, a young, aspiring contestant as an animal from the jungle, a bush baby. Rosie had seen enough; this one comment was enough to make her flail her arms as if she were attacking Donald Trump's toupee.

Nevermind that several weeks ago, Rosie drew criticism for mocking Asians. Heck, I don't think that's even relevant; the conversation is about Idol and whether its inherent meanness is something that eclipses good taste.

I say no -- 100 billion percent no. Real life in general is actually significantly meaner, on a daily basis. Every day, Rush Limbaugh is likely to say something about poor Americans (who aren't standing in his judgment, mind you) that is significantly meaner, collectively, than something said on our favorite show.

What's significant here is that the business Simon Cowell is in IS mean, proportionally meaner than the business Rush Limbaugh is in. Proportionally meaner than your workplace, than my workplace, proportionally meaner than the world in general ... and, if you asked me, Simon's comments and the laughter of all three judges, the snickering after certain contestants leave is probably less pointed than what goes on in most social circles.

First, the entertainment business is terribly cruel. The notion that any of these spares gets any feedback from somebody with experience is significantly more benevolent than what most get in the real world, even if the feedback is, "Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful."

Truth is, most aspiring musicians, singers and songwriters should give up their dreams. Most can't play worth a damn. Most can't sing worth a damn, and most don't really have an inkling about songwriting other than songs usually contain verses and choruses.

There is something to be said for Idol giving a class of entertainment wannabes new life in knowing that they'll never be in entertainment.

However, I don't know that THAT is relevant either.

What's relevant is Rosie's contention that the show would be equally successful without the bad auditions, the criticism and the chuckling -- without the meanness. And, that contention is a trillion percent wrong.

Rosie said last week that people would tune in just for great singers and great music, and I've preached from Season 1 that Idol could never succeed just on great music and great talent.

Truth is, the talent is mostly marginal, and the music is often painful. What is magnetic about the show is the audition process, the cycle of seeing hopes shattered and dreams born. Without Simon's belittling, without Randy's "Yo, dawg, that was terrible," without Paula's moaning sympathetic tone, folks like Taylor Hicks and Fantasia Barrino and Chris Daughtry don't have reason to jump for joy upon getting their golden ticket.

It's as if the extremity of Idol's negative side is what makes its positives so damned positive. Nevertheless, I'm not certain it's any more mean than most of the rest of the world.

And, the rest of the world damned sure isn't as entertaining as this show.

Just noticed on TMZ.com that one of Seattle's promising auditioners has a criminal past, sort of.

Thomas Daniels, the afroed dude who sang an Amos Lee tune has a DUI and hit-and-run under his belt. The DUI was wiped off the record after Daniels attended some AA meetings and had some counseling.

However, the noteworthy thing is that he told reporters "no comment" when asked whether he told Idol producers about his past.

That's trouble. You don't lie (through omission) to those folks and stick around.

You've probably read a bunch by now about Paula Abdul saying she thinks the winner of Idol Season 6 will be a curly headed guy who looks like Penn Jillette.

Well, I couldn't find ANY names anywhere. Not even in the NY Post, which ran an article with her quotes. It said Ms. Abdul wouldn't disclose names.

However, I'm the Web query God, and I have figured it out.

It's Chris Sligh, lead singer of indie-rock Christian band "Half Past Forever," and his photo is here.

I listened to his music, and upon first impression really liked it. Upon closer review, I loved the tune "Know." Seriously. I can't get enough of the darned song, but I didn't love all the others. Not yet, at least.

The articles I read suggested this kid has a high likability factor, and even Randy Jackson said a curly haired singer (either Sligh or a 'girl with no personality') would win the competition.

But, if you're looking for THE front-runner, according to the judges, this guy -- a Penn Jillette/Jack Osborne hybrid is your guy.

Sligh has even posted his Idol story, if you will ... right here. He's a self-described Christ-follower, who played sports in college, who keeps a blog with ruminations on life and theology, who embraces his dork-dom, if you will. There's even a blog on which he's written a novella in 11 or 12 parts, all posted to his site. I note all this because the guy's personality stands out, and it underscores his general writing ability, which I respect in any musician.

He plays an instrument. He writes his own music. He already plays in a band. He's chubby. He's a dork.

I can get behind this dude.

Everybody in the media had warned that Idol judges had said Seattle produced the worst talent in the show's history. However, what they didn't note was that the Emerald City might also produce the Season 6 winner.

And, that person is Jordin Sparks, a 16-year-old from Glendale, Ariz., and the daughter of NFL cornerback Phillipi Sparks.

To say she was my favorite singer of the night would be untrue. Jordin belted out Celine Dion's "Because You Love Me," which presents two problems for me. First, I despise Celine Dion. Second, I hate that song.

However, her voice produced a ton of potential, a wild amount of stylistic control for a kid, and she's going to be a gorgeous woman. Gorgeous. She's a tad chunky right now; however, you'll never get me to say a bad thing about Chaka Khan.

Realistically, I think Jordin suffers the same fate as last season's Lisa Tucker. Good, strong voice in an early audition round. Makes it to the Top 12, but can't hang with more experienced singers when it comes to traversing different genres.

But, she's got the look nailed down pat.

Commercially, she's the best of the lot at this point. However, who would have pegged Taylor Hicks as Idol's big winner after two episodes of Season 5?

Nobody.

Seattle produced some scary, scary people, including one little fellow Simon Cowell called a "bush baby," and the kid's buddy, who literally had no neck.

The city also produced a scary-looking blonde woman singing The Pussycat Dolls' "Don't Cha," and a red-headed insane man singing "Bohemian Rhapsody."

For as bad as Seattle was pegged in the press the past couple of days, it actually produced some kids I can get behind. Thomas Daniels, 21, sported kind of a 70's afro and sang a great Amos Lee tune. Rudy Cardenas touted his experience in L.A. and sang the hell out of "Open Arms," a song I despise with every fiber of my being.

Blake Lewis sported a Ryan Seacrest-ish haircut but beatboxed his way to a golden ticket by singing Seal's "Crazy," one of the best songs of the past 25 years.

Of these three, I think Cardenas has a major edge with the L.A. experience. The show has really brought out some people who have already made the trek to places like Nashville, Austin and L.A, and honed their craft. Taylor Hicks had been a professional musician for years. Bo Bice, too. Constantine Maroulis had already starred in a major off-Broadway production.

But for me, the treat of the night was a pair of siblings. Sanjaya and Shymali Malakar.

Over the years, Idol has introduced America to a wide variety of talent in terms of ethnic diversity. Black, white, Hawaiian, Filipino, Spanish. I think there's even been somebody of Japanese or Chinese descent make it to Hollywood.

However, Sanjaya and Shymali hail from India.

You know what? They were both freaking excellent, the brother more so than the sister. She sang "Summertime," and he sang "Signed, Sealed, Delivered." They both already have domain names reserved for them, which indicates to me that they're destined for the Top 24.

Here's the trick. She's gorgeous, and her brother will have girls going kind of ga-ga in a Bobby Brady sort of way. He is already generating a ton of buzz online, and the notion that siblings would be good enough to possibly get to the Top 12 must have Idol producers foaming at their soap-opera mouths.

The primary downside for the boy, though, is that he's terminally shy, it seems. Could be another Will Makar from Season 5, who had the same vibe going for him but never could conquer nerves as the competition heated up.

However, Sanjaya's voice was pure, clean, kind of white-boy (make that Indian boy) soulful, and he's an extremely intriguing contestant at this point. I would be absolutely lying to you if I didn't say I was kind of pulling for him because he's Indian ... for whatever reason, I just think that's cool because there is no chance in hell a young Indian kid gets this kind of shot in conventional music industry circles.

All in all, I think Rudy Cardenas, Sanjaya and Shymali Malakar and Jordin Sparks are Top 24 locks. Mark it down. Blake Lewis has a shot as does Thomas Daniels.

However, there's a long road before the Hollywood weeks begin. Nobody has completely wowed me yet, in terms of story or talent, to make me say that I'm pulling for him or her. Sanjaya is probably a front-runner right now; however, I'm a sucker for pretty girls, and Jordin Sparks has enough talent to win me over pretty fast.

I still don't think we've seen the show's winner just yet ...

Off to Memphis.

In five years, I have never met anybody who watched the first episode of an American Idol season and didn't get addicted like a junkie.

There's one photog at work who shares my enjoyment of all the pretty, young girls who aspire to stardom, and there are countless others who, like me, count themselves as armchair singing critics, spouting off hot music opinions every Wednesday and Thursday morning at work.

As I've written countless times, the beauty of Idol is that it involves everybody, not only as viewers but as participants. That's the way of the new media world -- from news to entertainment. As technology broadens, we're all destined to our 15 minutes of fame and to a certain amount of voyeuristic power.

It's a significant social improvement upon the sitcom and police drama 1970s, the quirky 1980s and the medical and criminal procedurals of the 1990s. Television is no longer passive. It encourages social networking and individual communication, and that's what makes Idol premeire night so cool.

Alas, the show's producers decided to open Season 6 in Minneapolis, a city that should produce a ton of local talent. The bigger half of the Twin Cities is one of the eight best music locales in America, particularly for soul and R&B.

I'd put Austin, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Nashville, New Orleans, New York and Seattle in the same league, as premier music cities. Atlanta could make a case for as many R&B singers as its produced over the years, and Detroit IS the home of Motown.

Nevertheless, Idol's first several shows is mostly about the terrible.

One fellow (Charles Moody) came in dressed like Apollo Creed, from the Rocky movies, and proceeded to sing an aria in Italian. He wasn't half bad either, but it was too weird for the judges.

My favorite bad singer of the night was a guy (Troy Benham) who described his look as urban Amish. His song seemed to be extemporaneously conceived, with lyrics like, "You can be nasty and catty and cruel and unusual, twist my nose with your fingers, trip me as I carry liquids ..."

I'm not making that up.

His flow continued with something about a "catalog I found on the ground where you could by roaches by the pound," adding that he would "spit in your face because everybody has to sleep."

While I'm pretty sure I botched the exact quote in the last paragraph there, Troy Benham's legend is merely beginning. That was a keeper.

Most of the bad singers, however, were just bad without intending to be so terrible. It's often hard to watch for some folks who find the overall process to be cruel; however, by this time, everybody in America knows what they're up against. To act surprised when the judges tell you how bad you are is silly.

Nevertheless, it's hard not to empathize with those whose dreams have been shattered. I'd only recommend to them to adjust their dreams; not everybody was meant to sing.

However, premeire night did feature some folks who were meant to sing, at least in some capacity.

Take Sarah Krueger, who I think was the best of the night. Her rendition of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow," while unoriginal, was clean and spot-on. She is definitely Top 12 material; however, a search for sarahkrueger.com (assuming I am spelling her name right) landed nothing but a site for some real estate agent.

One of the ways we Idol pros know to get some advance scoop on who might make it to the final 24 is to check domain-name registrations. At some point soon, Idol starts reserving names of the finalists. You want to know who gets to the final 24? Well, it's pretty easy to research.

Still, it's a bit early for that I suspect. Nevertheless, if I had to tab one person for the Top 24, for sure, it would be her. Cute girl, too.

Great back stories are a giant part of the show, and 16-year-old Denise Jackson had the best of the night. She said that when she was born, she was clinically a crack baby but explained that she was rescued by her grandmother.

While she screamed Jennifer Holiday's (and Jennifer Hudson's) "And I'm Telling You ...," Denise showed off a potentially terrific voice. She's got kind of a ghetto girl look (absolutely no offense meant) with gap teeth and a definite sense of urban style. Denise could be a sleeper, and knowing how much of an emphasis Idol places on its stories, I think a good bet for the Top 24.

Speaking of stories, Navy man Jarrod Fowler won a Reagan Idol competition onboard his ship -- the USS Ronald Reagan. While it's no precursor to Idol eligibility, it did render him a confident contestant, he said. Military stories are particularly poignant for the show, given its family demographic.

Fowler's rendition of Rascal Flatts' "Bless the Broken Road," which is a great song, got him the golden ticket to Hollywood. My recommendation for this cat is that he stray from the country because, I thought, his voice had some serious ballad and blue-eyed soul potential. And, in his case, I disagree with judge Randy Jackson about his use of vocal runs. In Fowler's case, they were solid.

Rachel Jenkins is a 21-year-old reservist whose husband is in Baghdad. While there was a huskiness about her voice that was appealing, she really, really lacks when it comes to looks or style. That could change, I suppose, if she dons something other than camo ... but, hey, we're just one show into things.

No chance she's in the Top 24 without a significant improvement. I think Fowler is definitely a wild card, on the other hand.

Perla Meneses is of Colombian descent, which means she's smokin' hot. She sang something that couldn't draw me away from my stare at her ample assets ("Call Me" from Blondie), but then did a quick rendition of Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" that was damned good. Personality is big on Idol, but I can't see her going any further than maybe the Top 24.

But, she wins the award tonight for hottest chick.

Matt Sato, 16, made it through to Hollywood even though he came to the audition with a big zit on his nose. Nice voice, but he'll need some spark at some point to go terribly far. However, his parents didn't make the trip because family finances were stretched, which again makes a nice story point for Idol producers.

In the end, I can't imagine that the winner of Idol Season 6 will come from Minneapolis. Now, Idol is notorious for hiding some gems from the audition rounds, such as Bo Bice two years ago and Elliot Yamin last year. Heck, in Season 5, they showed a snippet of Yamin's audition in their promotional tease, but we were never introduced to the guy until the Hollywood rounds.

In other words, the show's creators keep a few surprises, a few gems hidden. The initial shows are about good stories and terrible singers, for the most part.

In that respect, Episode 1 of Season 6 did not disappoint. However, in terms of hearing somebody who was really vocally and stylistically great? It was kind of a dud.

On to Seattle.

I freaking hate winter, but I'll post about the ice storm and my adventures later. However, I'm on Day 9 of winter storm coverage, and I'm tired and feeling rundown. I'm ready for a break ...

... and thanks to Fox, I have that break tonight.

It's the happiest day of the year, for the fifth consecutive year.

Idol premeires tonight, and I'll blog the hell out of it this season.

Honestly, the premeire of Idol ranks up there with the first Thursday of the NCAA basketball tournament, the first day of the baseball season and the first OU football game of the fall -- for me -- as my absolute favorite days of the year.

Can't wait. The fun gets started at 7 p.m. CST tonight and tomorrow.

An interesting conversation at work on Tuesday centered on how technologies like e-mail and instant-messaging systems and text-messaging applications have rendered proper English insignificant.

You've probably received that spam e-mail, in which the sender offers a sentence full of misspelled words, organized in such a way that you can still read the sentence and extract its meaning. On one hand, the premise of the message is that our brains interpret words and phrases in pieces instead of as a whole.

On the other hand, the message is a smart-alecky indictment on grammarheads.

While I've never been a perfect grammarian, consider me among those who value the written word, the well-organized phrase and the clear, concise sentence, complete with properly spelled words. With about a decade of technical experience under my belt, I've always likened English to an unintuitive programming language.

It's sensical and organized but with a ton of exceptions.

Well, turns out that 1970s TV icon and 21st century home-shopping matron Suzanne Somers lost her Malibu, Calif., home to a wildfire this week. She issued a statement to gossip Web site TMZ.com in which her publicist wrote:

"My nature is to look at the glass half full. I don't have a son or daughter in Iraq. I haven't lost a loved one. We will rebuild, and I truly believe we will learn something great from this experience."

To me, that statement is innocuous enough. However, some folks took her sentence about not having a son or daughter in Iraq as a jab against our troops. For awhile this afternoon, it got splattered across the front of The Drudge Report as if it were a Barbra Streisand moment, a Dixie Chicks mistake, the verbal slip-up of a Hollywood liberal.

However, it merely underscores my notion -- that our eCulture has just flat out ruined many of our written communication abilities. In this case, Somers' rep wasn't guilty of a tedious error; she was guilty of ambiguity, opening her client to a headache she probably doesn't need right now.

If it were a must that Somers would note something about American troops, what I would have written is this:

My nature is to look at the glass half-full. Nobody died in this blaze, and it doesn't even compare to the sacrifice our troops have made over the decades overseas. My family is fortunate enough to be able to rebuild, and I truly believe we will learn something great from this experience.

What has happened over the years as we've grown accustomed to communicating informally -- even in a semi-formal business setting -- is that we have trained ourselves to write as we would speak. Doing so, however, doesn't allow for vocal inflection or body language. It requires that the reader interpret the writer's words by themselves.

In this case, I don't think Somers meant a thing by it. Heck, I think she was expressing what I wrote instead of what has been charged to her. However, even if it requires a few more minutes, a longer note, in-depth descriptions or a bulleted list of main points, it would behoove communications specialists in the future to not think so little of the worth of the written word that they just jot down exactly what's on their minds.

Detail, clarity and specificity are your friends, particularly when dealing with the fourth estate.

I've suffered all week from a severe cold that was essentially a New Year's gift from a friend. My sinuses thank him. I'm hoping for a legitimate addiction to some kind of drugged nose spray.

Anyway, the need to rest will mean that movies are in order.

Movie No. 3 for 2007 is one I watched last week, a comedy called Beerfest, brought to you by the troupe of comedians called Broken Lizard. They did Super Troopers, a movie that was funny in parts but that overall I found to be a relative bore.

However, before delving into what I thought of the movie ...

* Check out a quick synopsis of reviews on rottentomatoes.com.

* And, here's a trailer for your sudsy enjoyment.

My thoughts: Look, I love beer like the next guy, and I thought parts of this movie were quite funny. However, I hate the cast. I find Broken Lizard about as naturally funny as I did SCTV growing up, and that is -- not funny at all.

On the other hand, it's hard not to laugh at an Indian dude playing a male-male prostitute and then getting recruited to a beer-drinking team. The entire gist of the movie is that these guys have created a beer-drinking team to fight for the honor of their late father, played by Donald Sutherland, and whore mother, played by Cloris Leachman (who's always great).

The good parts of this movie were forced, and the bad parts were so bad that they were almost funny by being so bad. Others, such as the replacement of Landfill with his twin brother, whom they eventually called Landfill, were neither funny nor inventive. It was actually just dumb.

Nevertheless, I laughed, which means I can spare it an F.

However, most any other comedy available in the new releases section of your local Blockbuster will be funnier than this movie.

Grade D+

As a postscript, to be fair, the people I watched it with do enjoy Broken Lizard, and they dug the movie ... meaning that if Broken Lizard is your thing, you're probably in for a treat.

Movie No. 4 of the new year is actually kind of an oldie. I watched a 2003 erotic thriller called "Swimming Pool" this evening.

Here is the video trailer for the movie on IMDB.com.

Here is a list of reviews, quick synopses of what the critics thought on rottentomatoes.com.

My thoughts: First, this movie is very adult, not only in terms of the fact that it's technically an erotic thriller but also in the fact that it's just a mature movie. It's basically a French film but in English and some francais.

French countryside. Parisian fields. Beautiful, beautiful scenery.

On the other hand, there's a ton of nudity and sexuality. However, the story is basically one of a conversative English woman and a slutty French teen. They share a mysterious secret ... and, no, it's NOT sexual.

The movie plays out like a play. Did you ever read "The Cherry Orchard?" Anyway, it's not like that exactly, but the movie is pretty to watch, it's intriguing, VERY well acted and totally provocative in terms of post-movie discussion.

While it's a "thriller" though, it's a slow thriller, and it's more fun to watch the machinations of Rampling's character rummaging through the fridge or speeding away on her bicycle in the French countryside than to get caught up in any thrills.

One part of me says that this film should leave most people going "What the hell?" The other part of me says this is a legitimate movie classic, up there with Hitchcock's best psychological thrillers.

My hunch is that it's somewhere well in between ...

Grade: A-

If you didn't watch Monday night's Fiesta Bowl, you missed the greatest finish of any game in college football history. Boise State beat OU 43-42, and I'm tired of seeing the replays, the celebration, the little mildly retarded Broncos running back proposing to his obviously sympathetic cheerleader girlfriend.

Because I'm a Sooners fan.

However, that was a great game, and Boise State sooooo deserved to win.

I've got a few quick observations on what many are calling the greatest Bowl game ever, at least perhaps the greatest finish. Follow along with the bouncing ball and stare at Radio as he trots into the end zone and proposes to his sister.

Bitter, I'm not.

Observations below:

1. I didn't pay attention to this game for 55 clock minutes because OU played lethargically and made ample mistakes. OU didn't show up to this game like it hadn't in its last Orange and Sugar Bowls. Sorry, but Bob Stoops is to blame for the team's lack of preparation.

My very knowledgable and brutally honest buddy Jerm noted to me today that, hey, the Oklahoma sports media is so one-sided when it comes to the Sooners that they'll never be able to judge Stoops fairly, particularly considering he won a national title in his second year.

Hell, I'm critical of blown-game Bob, and I still revere the man as a coach. However, it's clear that his magic is slipping. Worse yet, Stoops' teams have been ill-prepared for truly big games the past four years.

There is nothing worse, in my book, than being under-prepared.

******

2. I was told by a good source today that during the week leading up to the Fiesta Bowl, when BSU and OU players would hang out together, Sooners players treated the Broncos like little brothers. Almost patronizing. His take was that even if the Oklahoma coaches didn't take the Broncos lightly, the players almost certainly did.

******

3. For all the hype about Adrian Peterson, Allen Patrick was the best running back wearing crimson last night. He's been the best running back all year, and my sincere hope is that No. 28 does go pro because, I think, his Fiesta Bowl return pretty much derailed what OU had accomplished offensively the past eight weeks.

Truth is, as much as I was kidding about Ian Johnson -- referring to him as looking like he was mentally retarded or like that movie character -- he's got a heart as big as Texas. He's talented, able, seems like a great guy, and he's got serious, serious character. Like Quentin Griffin a few years back -- little but talented, smart and determined.

Give me No. 41 any day of the year, any season over Adrian Peterson.

******

4. Bob Stoops was disturbingly outcoached by Chris Petersen. Petersen was on the sideline, high-fiving with assistants as if this were a game of Tecmo Bowl. Sure, Petersen's calls were gutsy, but they were also smart and kept us off-balance, and all the plays were well executed.

Truth is, an Oklahoma team hasn't kept another team off balance since 1999, when Mike Leach was our offensive coordinator. Leach is currently the Big 12's best game coach and best play caller, and a guy like him is desperately needed back in Oklahoma.

Stoops is still a great season manager. He maximizes the team's abilities over the course of a season so well. Hell, without Bomar -- who was still better than Paul Thompson, no matter what you say, no matter what Thompson did and no matter how good a guy Thompson is (and, he seems to be an excellent dude) -- Stoops still managed to lead Oklahoma to an 11-3 record and a Big 12 title.

I ain't gonna bitch too much.

******

5. But about that defense! I still hate the job Brent Venables has done. He's nowhere near as talented as Mike Stoops. Never was, and his departure will be welcomed by the same group who clapped and cheered with Chuck Wrong left for San Diego State.

We're up 35-28 with 1:02 left, and Venables assigns corners and safeties to each cover a quadrant of field. Oklahoma recruits the best athletes in the country, many of whom will play DB on Sundays and Mondays, and you mean to tell me he won't let them play man to man?

Furthermore, that Statue of Liberty play that BSU pulled off was on tape. They did it against Idaho. After the game, Stoops said that he was concerned about a weak-side handoff, but Venables only put a couple of fatties on that side to protect.

On the other hand, Boise State -- who acknowledges that this play rarely worked in practice -- executed perfectly. It was a beautiful, beautiful play. However, we should be ashamed for not being able to defend it. That singular play was embarrassing, symptomatic of how bad our defense is capable of playing under Venables, and personally -- I think -- final evidence that Venables needs to go get himself a head coaching gig somewhere.

The play was on tape. That we didn't pick up on what they were going to do is inexcusable.

******

6. I loved how Boise State scored on 4th and 18 like the rest of America, but for the love of God, it was a hook-and-lateral not a freaking hook and ladder. There are no ladders in football. It is not Chutes and Ladders.

It is a hook. A passing pattern where the guy runs down field and hooks back to receive the ball.

The receiver then LATERALS it to a guy running his way.

Hook and lateral.

It makes me nuts, just like trying to explain to Texans back in the 1990s that the term OSKIE was real and that it referred to interceptions, a term used in tip drills where DBs would yell ... Oh, never mind. I didn't even play football, and I know this.

I'm being overly critical. Truth is, Oklahoma was in a classic, one of the greatest games ever played, almost certainly the best football game this century, possibly the best ending to any football game in my lifetime.

I should note that my high school alma mater, Henryetta, lost on a 2-point conversion in overtime in the quarterfinals of the Class 2A high school football playoffs this past season. That game was damn near as good as this Boise State-OU game, too.

Henryetta had taken the lead 35-28 in OT. Davis' little wishbone-running quarterback ran the ball in. The Knights went offside on the first extra-point attempt, and in Boise State fashion, the Wolves went for two.

It was exciting and riveting ...

... but I'm tired of being on the wrong end of these sons of bitches.

So, I'm counting on the Oklahoma women and the Dallas Mavericks to do me right this year.

Hell, if Tony Romo and the Cowboys could pull off a miracle in the next couple of weeks.

If. If. If. If. If. If. If.

It all comes down to preparation, coaching and heart. That's all sports is, and it's exactly why Oklahoma got beat -- because those boys from Boise outclassed us on all three fronts.

Music in 2006, from the perspective of the whole body of work, was one of innovative artists but only a handful of great CDs. Most of the singers in my Top 10 CDs for 2006 list put together albums with extraordinarily unique sounds or styles.

What's odd is that 9 out of 10 of my best CDs for the year came from solo artists. When you consider that the tenth is really a side-band for the most successful female solo artist this century, well, it makes me wonder: What happened to great albums from great bands?

Who knows. I don't think there are a lot of great bands anymore. Hell, a lot of folks peed themselves over the Red Hot Chili Peppers offering in 2006, but to me it sounded like the same work they've produced the past 10 years.

In general, I find bands like Nickelback and Hinder to be a complete bore. My Rhapsody music chart also sports Top 20 albums from Rascal Flatts, who I generally despise, and offerings from The Fray and Snow Patrol, both of whom I like.

Neither of those groups is exactly U2 or even Coldplay yet, no?

However, my 10 favorite albums of the year were genuinely great front to back, and all had something unique to offer the music world.

10. KT Tunstall - Eye to the Telescope

This Scottish singer-songwriter caught my ear with the slow, moody tune "Other Side of the World" back in the spring. However, she caught everybody else's attention via Katherine McPhee in American Idol, when the show's eventual runner-up sang "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" sans shoes.

Watching the real deal though sing her hits on ABC's New Year's Eve programming last night proves Tunstall is even sexier. If you asked me, I actually prefer some of her slower, more introspective songs to her big hits. Nevertheless, this album and her emergence in 2006 was to the benefit of music fans everywhere.

9. Imogen Heap - Speak for Yourself

I seriously erred when I didn't include "Hide & Seek" in my Top 25 songs of 2006 list. However, I discovered it pretty late in the year, when I heard this member of Frou Frou (who I liked quite a bit) was nominated for a Best New Artist Grammy.

Her description in Rhapsody notes that Heap (whose first name I'm not even sure how to pronounce) lives in her own musical universe. That is true to a T. She is unlike anything you have ever heard, an artist in the purest sense of the word with a haunting, gorgeous voice and brilliant sense of vocal harmony and arrangement.

Think Annie Lennox with an edge.

8. Ray Lamontagne - Til The Sun Turns Black

My friend S introduced me to this CD in the middle of the year, and like most gems she's presented me with over the years, this one took a while to grow on me (like Norah Jones did, back in the day).

This CD is soft, slow, introspective and very airy, folky. It's rainy-day music, and Lamontagne's voice is hypnotic. The album reminds me of David Gray's "White Ladder" on Xanax. However, for a quiet night in or as background music, it's tres excelente.

7. Bob Dylan - Modern Times

First song out of the chute, and Bob is singing about thinking about Alicia Keys in what sounds like a boogie-woogie country tune. He sings, "I wonder where Alicia Keys could be?"

Dylan's 2006 offering is unique, lyrically fascinating and tight as hell. When I listen to his band, I'm always amazed at the lack of wasted notes and the simple arrangements, as well as his willingness to let mistakes make the final cut. Listen to the botched note at the beginning of "Spirit on the Water." It's perfect. Wouldn't want it to not be there.

6. John Mayer - Continuum

Mayer is among the artists on my list who isn't terribly unique. He's got a pop sound with a folk edge and a whispery voice. However, he is a world-class songwriter, and he's got enough funk in his style to be compared to the very best blue-eyed soul artists of the past 40 years.

Mayer deserves to be showered with Grammys this year. Among the folks who were nominated, he's so far beyond anything on the table. While I thought "Waiting on the World To Change" was the best song of the year, what makes the CD great are tunes that will never get released like "Belief" and "Vultures." I'll tell you this now: Vultures is an instant blues standard and will be on cover-song lists for the next 30 years.

5. The Little Willies - The Little Willies

Norah Jones heads up a band of Texas swingers for a collection of songs that will remind you of some of the best music the Lone Star State has to offer. To me, it's a crime this wasn't nominated for a Grammy in the best album category.

Not to knock the Dixie Chicks too much; however, this is the quality of pop/folk country I expect from them. Norah Jones, this century's best-selling female singer by a ton, is criticized at times for being the queen of mellow in an industry that demands charisma. It has always been a bogus criticism, and this CD from her side project du 2006 is living proof of just how talented she is and how vital her music actually is. This is an incredibly fun CD.

4. Sean Lennon - Friendly Fire

Given that Lennon is the son of a legend, most folks were polarized by "Friendly Fire," either loving it or hating it. Count me among the former.

Two decades after Julian Lennon broke out with hits like "Valotte," Sean puts together an introspective, smart, musically adept collection of songs that not only pay respect to his heritage, they also carve out a comfortable Duncan Sheik-esque niche for himself.

The more I listened to this CD, the more it was unavoidable: Sean Lennon is 100 percent musically talented on his own. The CD's tracks are pretty mellow, but they are very well written and produced, and for whatever reason, I kept coming back to this CD time and time again in 2006. Highlights include "Dead Meat" and especially "Parachute."

3. Sondre Lerche - Duper Sessions

This Sondre Lerche fellow calls a-ha is biggest influence, is typically categorized with Baroque artists like Rufus Wainwright and yet the Norwegian solo artist still released a jazz album in 2006, complete with original tunes modeled after the great standards of the 1930s and 1940s ... and it was freaking excellent.

The first tune, "Everybody's Rooting For You," blew me away the first time I heard it, not only from the perspective that this tune is an original but that his band is top-notch. To be honest, the guy kind of reminds me of Django Reinhardt in that you just don't expect a Euro to be this damned good at jazz.

2. Donald Fagen - Morph the Cat

Here comes the H Gang. Holy crikey is this CD cool, from a guy who keeps whipping out good music year after year. I can totally understand folks who don't care for Steely Dan. However, those who love them (like me) will love Fagen's best CD ever.

Yes, better than The Nightfly, which was excellent and, frankly, pretty groundbreaking for the early 1980s, at least in terms of his solo sound.

However, over the years, Fagen has somehow become an even better lyricist than he was in his heyday. "H Gang" is a tune about female prisoners forming a band. "Security Joan" is about a dude who likes it a bit much when airport security checks him, if ya' know what I mean.

1. Fergie - The Dutchess

In a year when most of my favorite CDs came from kind of hip, indie or at least critically acclaimed artists, my favorite album of the year was totally, 100 percept guilty-pleasure pop.

The hot-chick member of The Blackeyed Peas put together -- well, with the help of Will.I.Am -- the best produced pop album in the past 10 years. Love her or hate her, she has a unique sound, and her lyrical style is fun, fast and way smarter than most folks would ever give her credit for.

Sure, the offering is what I'd categorize as a production album, meaning it's not exactly worthy of a ton of songwriting awards. However, sometimes these production CDs are just so damned fun to listen to that they're worthy of critical consideration. I mean, isn't the main reason we listen to music for the enjoyment of it?

Do Donald Fagen, Sean Lennon, Sondre Lerche, etc., have more of my musical respect? Sure.

However, whose CD has been in my car all year? Hers.

And, if you look at this entire list, this CD stands out from all the others. Fergie might not be showered with awards for this album, but it undoubtedly will ensure she continues upward from marginal fame to global superstardom a la Madonna.

Over the past couple of weeks, I've put together various year-end lists, and I have one more to present. CDs of the year. Albums, in old-people parlance.

However, sitting next to a stale beer and a TV blaring Fergie, I felt the need to reflect on 2006 and look ahead to 2007 before I show off my ultimate 2006 and annual list.

First and foremost, as we get older -- and we all are -- the need to progress as individuals, as a community, as a state, a country, nation and so forth is top of mind going into the new year. We always say that with every drop of a New Year's ball.

But, we rarely act on it.

I am one for resolutions; however, I prefer to keep those to myself. I have many.

What I can tell you is that 2007 is a year for work and effort, neither necessarily tied to a professional job. It's about achieving this state of ultimate progress, about being the best you can be, whether it pertains to an individual goal -- such as losing 25 more pounds for me (I weighed in at 200 on Dec. 31, having started at 218 on Nov. 4) -- or to a more spiritual goal, such as being the person your Creator expects you to be.

OK, it's nothing to cringe at. We all feel that tug, whether we recognize it or not, and we each know what's required of us to maximize that progress.

It could mean cutting expenses or eating more veggies or working out like a fiend (that's me) or devoting part of your day to intellectual or spiritual studies or ending a habit or a relationship or devoting time to the creation of a new habit or relationship ... either way, it takes devotion.

You know what it is for you.

I know what it is for me.

Don't wait until Jan. 2. Get started today.