finally saw the gates in central park yesterday, if 'seeing the gates' can mean 'driving by the gates on the way to an oscar party, about which i was nervous and was therefore somewhat distracted.' i read somewhere that the spectators looked rather like shambling legions of the undead as they toured the park, and lord knows my life is full enough of opportunities to look undead. as i did at the oscar party, in fact, as joe and i made halfhearted attempts to dress as billy bob thornton and angelina jolie (i.e. bottles of blood-colored nail polish around our necks). our host's sister did not win an academy award, but i got to feel terribly grown up for hanging out with people from work.

jacob, our friendly neighborhood culture vulture / educational research expert, offers an erudite post mortem on our hopes for judd and american idol. in related news, constantine was on elimiDATE a few years ago (warning: link to pseudosexual shirtlessness).


those of you who know judd - and those of you who got to know him via american idol - know that he got jacked tonight. visit his band's site and download songs; let fox and the idol producers know that they lack both class and taste.


no new magazine delicacies, kittens; i didn't see any big pieces in us, in touch, in style, or star, was too cheap to buy them all and scour them at the office, and love my local newsstand guy too much to stand there thumbing through his merchandise for an hour. joe, however, found this curious snippet from the entertainment weekly site:
Do make like Beyonce and shake your bootylicious backside! I'm still not sure how I feel about Judd Harris' cover of "Travelin' Band," but I'd rather watch him working the stage than see his competitors standing frozen in front of the mike making runs through some saccharine ballad. (Bonus points to Judd for confidently sporting red velvet pants. I am so wearing my pair to the office on Friday!) What I'd really like to see would be Harris engaged in a dance-off with the effervescent Aloha Mischeaux (a true pop-star name if ever there was one). She took my favorite obscure Beyonce single, "Work It Out," and turned it into a funky Idol classic — despite the cheesy Casio instrumentation behind her.
no big response here, though i do find it fascinating that a guy wrote that article.


was frightened by northjersey.com
New Yorkers Judd Harris, 27, Constantine Maroulis, 29, and Mario Vazquez, 27. Harris probably won't make the final 12, but expect big things from Maroulis, a talented rocker, and Vasquez, whose looks should keep him in the game for at least a few more weeks.
right up until
The closest woman hails from North Carolina (that'd be Sarah Mather, 22), but we might move to Vegas so we can claim cute 'n' spunky 17-year-old Mikalah Gordon.
mikalah is many things - brassy, poorly dressed, possibly a man - but neither cute nor spunky comes to mind. that reviewer's off of my list. the toronto star notes that "both [Anwar] Robinson and Mikalah Gordon were good enough to perform for Bill Clinton." anwar, sure, but what was miss m performing, now?


after last night's orgy of calls, text messaging, and nail-biting, folks in these parts are looking forward to kicking back this evening. joe and i even suffered through the local fox newscast for footage of the new york boys. judd's appearances were limited to show footage - a good thing, as it happens, for joe murena's cute vibe curdled into boy band yick in his interview (no tinted shades! no tinted shades!) and constantine looked like death on a cracker as he claimed that he didn't need much sleep. because he feeds on preteen life essences instead of singing?

estelle, the septuagenarian receptionist in joe's office, is solidly behind the judd (and anthony federov, but we'll ignore that): "i like the one who sounds like elvis."

pro-harris links to collect in the upper right corner as i grab 'em. reports to follow on how the gossip rags roll out tomorrow.

in non-idol news, i heart my new job: boss is a sweetheart, i have my own damn office, and the work itself threatens to be interesting. rawk!


judd galore, thanks to eagle-eyed george: behold an "entertainment tonight" segment (icon for the movie below the picture of judd on the left) and the notorious terri seymour "extra" clip (link at bottom left: "Best of the Best: meet American Idol's 24 finalists"). vote your little fingers off tonight, america. 8pm ET.


the part of me that retains professional public relations impulses wants to jump on bacon's and work contacts to push judd. faustus i ain't; let's survey the AI message board.

Admittedly, we haven't seen most of what everyone has to offer- however, with the "majors" coming up- let me say JUDD HARRIS. Cute, talented, not over the top- but definite charisma. Anyone reading the boards for the past couple of days knows how I feel, but I don't think we've heard enough of this guy to count him out. Besides, remember the finals night- Simon said that it wasn't unanimous- who doubts that it was Simon who didn't agree?

i think simon has the love, actually. randy, on the other hand, has questioned our boy's work with african-american artists' material. to that i say fneh; his CD wall and live performances speak for themselves. you want affected, i refer you to constantine's "the letter."

I hope we won't have to say bye to him before the top 10 (for the concert). If it helps with the fan problem, Judd has pretty much the entire Hobbit Harem behind him (Jon-Peter Lewis board). Not that they're a huge a board or anything, but it's more then the 4 people on this board

hobbit harem? way out of my depth.


ah, wily sarah - i'd been hoping she'd been lying to us for the last month. thus, ecstatically, begins the all-out 'judd harris is the next american idol' phase of kidchamp's development. the press hoopla, surprise surprise, is heavily underway. interviews with people, ensemble ford commercials, an amusing chat on extra (he hits on the host - looking forward to that), all out of the way already. as are phone calls from random types - at the apartment last night, we heard several dozen calls from girls who'd known judd at blue star, his college alumni association, and so on. i'm guessing they change their phone number and get their address out of the book, oh, sometime this afternoon.

to recap a rant i may or may not have posted a month ago, dear readers, embrace the judd posthaste. this is a man who fixed our toilet as a surprise christmas present, shepherded me through unemployment with song, is the most doting boyfriend i've ever seen...talent aside, not that it needs to be an aside, he's utterly deserving.

and for the portion of the post where we respond to the chat rooms,

Did you know that Judd Harris can do a mean Tina Turner impersonation? If he should make the finals, and one of the theme nights calls for a bit of drag, he should whip out his Tina wig. Of course, he should do it if he has the legs.

he has the legs. the key song is "private dancer," incidentally.

I'm fully behind Judd Harris now since he seems to actually have creativity and talent which isn't exactly a common AI contestant trait. He's the kind of guy I'd actually look forward to seeing what he does week to week. Kinda JPL with talent?

with talent, sans the mormon stink. and who isn't grateful for that?

I absolutely want to marry Judd (in Massachusetts, if nowhere else), which means he's definitely straight.

do i detect a strong gay following in the making? cheers, boys! jake has promised to rally the pennsylvania queer community: i will hold him to that pledge.

I agree that they're pimping Mario bigtime, but you've got four guys here who are not boyband types: the also heavily pimped Conman, plus Bo, Joe, and Judd. They guys seem to fall into three categories--the rockers, the pretty boy boybanders, and the r&b guys. I'm wondering if they don't, in fact, want someone they see as edgy. Although Conman has about as much edge as a frequently used disposable razor.

don't get george started on constantine: they went to high school together, back when he was still known as dean the drama guy. constantine is also buddy-buddy with my trainer (shut up); i'm hoping she reveals info we can use to destroy him.

Constantinople: Come on. This guy Can. Not. Sing. I don't get it. All he does is growl to cover up for his lack of being on key, and the judges roll over about it. I think either a) he's supernatural like that Keanu Reeves movie; b) the judges are indeed stacking the deck with losers to push their faves ahead; or c) they feel his looks will help him move along. Otherwise, I'm baffled.



judd harris for amerifuckin idol!


ye olde freelancing gig came to a welcome end this morning; got my replacement up to speed on what she missed, got a few hugs, got the hell out. now the glorious long weekend before joining The Magazine - a few days to say goodbye to bob barker and the morning tv gang, hit sample sales for foo-foo writer clothes, scope out the central park christo madness, convince the world that judd is the next american idol. he's still in the running, baby, and we find out tonight if he's a finalist. sarah, wise woman that she is, stopped talking about him a long time ago, so we'll get the news with the rest of the plebes tonight. all signs point to yes, though: he's doing well on the television without pity message boards, i've seen neither hide nor hair of him for a few weeks, and look, he's judd. if the contestants' reaction to his performance last night (a saucy "mustang sally") is any indication, he's about to rock america's pants. get on the bandwagon once that happens, will you?


love day in manhattan, yeow! it's as if a giant made of roses died somewhere in midtown and hundreds of ant-messengers are carrying pieces of him away to feed their larvae. this year my horrible luck has taken the form of extreme facial disfigurement, an impressive low even by traditional standards: one of my wisdom teeth decided to materialize saturday night, so one side of my face freaked out and blew up. now i'm half me, half madeleine albright (or the georgetown mascot, depending on your frame of reference). st. valentine, you never cease to amaze.

lesley's fashion tip of the day:
prada bags are for small asian girls with med school boyfriends.

updates updates updates! alphabetized! alphabetized alphabetized!

american idol. judd is the david lee roth of season 4; we've seen him leap out of rooms, buses, what have you at least three times. there were a few montage shots prior to yesterday, then we finally got a few consecutive seconds of him flubbing the lyrics in his group performance. oh, judd! but he is telegenic and talented and winning, and i have faith that he'll score some air time next week. plans underway to make lots of JUDD! tee shirts, and one for george that says I LOVE JUDD IN A TOTALLY PLATONIC WAY!

flu. fuck you, flu. i threw up all day sunday and cheesed out of work on monday (i'm paid by the hour, i might note), cheesed out of work again yesterday, and you still want to make me long only for death? we'll see who wears the gimp suit when i have health insurance again.

magazine job. i got it, actually. i'll be starting after the holiday, getting the biggest paychecks of my life, and appearing on the mufuckin' masthead. the position itself isn't that lofty, but it's not entry level (whee!) and i don't have to go back to the unemployment services office. that's more than enough.

oscars. 1/5 on best picture nominees to date; we saw sideways on sunday. fairly accurate take on what it's like to pull to the side of the road in central california, especially in the shot with pea soup andersen's. joe notes that listening to people talk about wine for more than five minutes makes one want to kill; he's right. that said, the naturalism was refreshing and i laughed out loud several times. that hasn't happened since harold & kumar. next on the checklist is million dollar baby, even though i've fallen victim to several articles that STUCK SPOILERS IN THEIR HEADLINES BEFORE TALKING ABOUT REVIEWS THAT SPOILED THE MOVIE.



left: wall street near ground zero, on a fourth of july walk with jen. of the many energetic dicks i've encountered in new york, this was my favorite.

right: snow outside the office, and the excellent ziegfeld theater in the background. my finger in the foreground. watch your back, ansel adams!

mischa barton quote of the day (now brought to you with assistance from i hate you toonces):
"Oh. For these Russian victims of, like, acts of terror. Most of the people had no idea who I was because they were all into this thing about helping Russian children. But I was so glad I went. That's my favorite jacket ever. It's so horribly '80s, but it's vintage YSL. It cost me nothing."

(allure, 2.05, commenting on pictures of herself at a benefit for helpterrorvictims.org)

chez us ten years ago:

courtesy of terraserver via erin. that plaza half a block west of our building is where ze kidchamp magic happens.