The Magical Hanukkahtime Section Variety Hour is an eight-day festival of light reading. BC Magazine's sports editor spreads his Gentile love in every other section but his own. And because it's Hanukkah, the gifts of are substandard quality: in this case, it's an article. Today: BC Music.
While you gotta hand it to those hundreds of American Idol finalists, which outnumber all but the finalists for Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, singing really isn't that hard. I can sing. I can sing well. Oh, not in front of people, though. But you totally have to believe me. I can belt out a Styx song like nobody's business.
Unfortunately for me, the ability to sing begins to suffocate the minute others' eyes — which are located next to functional ears — begin to fixate toward me on stage. Certainly this is the case for many others. But there must be some way to extract that singing ability into something we can all enjoy.
Which is why we must go where all the bad stage singers croon at their finest:
• In the car
• In the shower
Count 'em up. That's two bullet points, which means we have two reality shows to rival American Idol on competing networks.
Interstate Icon will not have open recruiting. Instead, people sign up to have their friends' automobiles bugged. Production assistants will dress up as a burglar and break into the car, hooking up a secret recorder right next to the odometer. As the weeks go by, viewers will vote on the best renditions of "Bohemian Rhapsody" and "Free Fallin'" or whatever the driver so chooses to sing along with. Contestants will be disqualified if they already own a recording contract, or ever took singing lessons. Interstate Icon is dedicated to finding average people's hidden singing talent. Plus, few aspiring singers actually own cars.
Then for our shower-inclined singers, Water Solo is basically the same concept, except production assistants disguise themselves as naked people to plant the recorder. The added degree of difficulty in Water Solo is the fact that most people don't have shower radios and sing from memory. Plus, any and all duets recorded are inherently hot.
I know what you're thinking. "It won't last." Well, that's the point. If this show had longevity, everyone would cease those beautiful unheard lost-for-the-ages renditions of songs in cars and showers. It'll only last a year, so people won't fear of being secretly recorded and can continue on with their daily lives.
And that's when production on Season Two begins.