In my quest for fame and fortune, I've also encountered the "seamy underbelly" or reality TV: the exploitive humiliation of the delusional and the "fakeness" or reality television. Here's my take on it.
In Birmingham, I met a guy that I'll call "Junior." (Details changed to protect the innocent.) He was eighteen-ish and seemed like the "scary loner" type, the kind that neighbors will say they are shocked that he machine gunned civilians from a bell tower because he seemed like the nicest guy.
I first met Junior after 1st round of auditions. After getting our golden ticket, we go to a room, to get a polaroid taken and a more extensive contract to sign. (It gave me a headache to read, and I'm not sure if *I* understood it all. The big thing worry was the "exclusive" period, which says that if you progress farther in the competition, you can't become famous for a year afterwards. I asked if I get cut in the Simon round if that meant that I can't do any performing for another year. They said that it's if you *progress* farther in the competition, you'd get another, more binding, contract.)
So we're chatting, and I realize Junior doesn't know how to sing. I don't say anything at the time, but on the drive home, I fret. Should I have warned Junior that he is delusional and is being set up to get humiliated on national TV? My friends say that if he's delusional, nothing you can say would change his mind. I'm not convinced that that means I should at least try. Ultimately I decide that Junior is responsible for his own decisions, if he wants to try, I shouldn't volunteer to stop him. If he asks for my opinion, I'll give it, otherwise, I just won't comment on his singing.
I meet Junior again at the start of 2nd round of auditions. Junior had his Mom along. (He was probably eighteen-ish, but still, your mother?) Junior had remarkable long hair. We talked in line, because there was nothing to do. I was in my Darkwinner outfit (complete with mask) so he remembered me (I have no idea who the "regular" contestants were, they really do blend together), and he thought I was a prankster.
However, he seemed really serious about progressing on Idol. He mentioned that he did choir back in junior high, so he had sufficient vocal training. (It's amazing how non-trained people genuinely think they can beat pro singers who've trained for years....) I nod and smile. His mom is supportive, saying that God is guiding him on this adventure, and she is glad to be a part of it.
We're waiting for our turn to audition, and we talk a bit more. (Actually, I'm trying to learn the song, and drinking a lot of water...) His mom gets interviewed on camera, and she says that Junior would be a great Idol because he'd be a great role model that all the kids could look up to.
I don't make it past Nigel, but Junior and I exchanged contact information. He made it past Nigel (Delusions have their advantages, I guess.) He calls me, upset because Idol called him and told him not to cut his hair. Junior cussed out the Idol rep, and he's worried that he blew his chances. I say that it probably INCREASED his chances (which is true), because they like having emotional people on the show. His mom cuts in (she was listening) and says she's worried about her role model comment. Junior says he's worried that Simon will say he is gay on national teletvion, because Junior has long hair.
And now comes the dilemma. I had resolved not to say anything unless he asked for my advice, and now he asked for my advice. I say, "Well, you have to hope for the best, but be prepared for the worst. If you get made fun of on national television, can you handle it?"
Junior starts crying. He says he wants to be like Scooter girl. (Season 2 she made it to Hollywood.) He says he was in junior high choir. I say if Idol liked him for his voice, they wouldn't care what his hair looked like. They seemed to really care about his hair, so maybe he should make sure his voice is good. I recommended that he go to 2-3 voice teacher/coaches and ask for their professional opinion. It's better to find out if you're delusional before you go on national television. If all the coaches say he can't sing, Junior isn't required to return to Birmingham and face Simon on national television, when he knows what is coming.
His mom asks me if I think Junior can sing well enough. I say "I'm not sure, I haven't heard him sing, and even if I did, I'm not a pro." We talk for a little more, but Junior seems to feel better since he got it out of his system.
It turns out that Junior didn't follow my advice. He went in blind to face Simon, Paula and Randy, and the judges were not impressed. Junior told me later that he was most angry with Randy, and even Paula didn't have anything nice to say. Junior was angry, and mouthed off to the cameras. (I thought, well, I'm going to see you on TV. Luckily, his tirade was similar to Brandy's post "Like a Virgin" tirade, that his audition didn't make it to TV.) Finally, Junior says he's trying out for another audition in Orlando, and this one ONLY costs $1000, because "this audition is only for people who are serious." (Yeah, that audition screamed "Scam.")
I think I handled myself well in that moral crisis. (And I feel I'm more equipped to handle "not give advice" type situations in the future...) Junior benefited as well. He told me he's much more confident, not afraid to sing in front of other people at all now. I think his real benefit was he got to walk around for a couple weeks thinking he had a potential shot at the fame lottery. And I had that feeling myself for awhile, and I can honestly say that it is a GREAT feeling, and not one I would trade in for anything, even the potential emotional downsides.
So maybe it's just my natural optimism, but I don't think there's that large a seamy underbelly to the delusional auditioning for reality TV.