The much-coveted red wrist band...

But I did camp out on a concrete floor for 36 hours, washed my hair in a sink that thousands of people were using (after disinfecting w/ anti-bacterial wipes), and heard about 342.8 people singing Fugees "Killing Me Softly". Actually, it must have been more than that, because - I swear - if I had pulled out only one hair for each time I heard that song, I surely would have been bald long before Hour 24.

This is the AMERICAN IDOL (hereforth known as "AI") experience, I guess... So for those of you who want the details (and you're not getting them any other way from me, because I'm sick to death already of telling the story!), then read on!

In all of my time playing and singing around Richmond, I've constantly been told "you should try out for American Idol". So I guess I had this hair-brained thought that if 100 people in Richmond thought that I should try out, then maybe I should.

Kari singing "Fell in Love with a Boy" in the Fox Richmond Idol contest

The experience really started in Richmond, on Thursday, August 12. That was the date of the Richmond Idol auditions. The winner was guaranteed an audition at the AI auditions in DC (which didn't matter so much, since all who showed up auditioned) and a $500 mall gift certificate. No one was supposed to line up before 6:00am, and only 200 contestants were supposed to audition, but when I got there at 5:45, there were already about 30 people there, and my efforts (trust me - getting up at 4:30 WAS an effort) were in vain, since they let everyone audition that showed up by 8:30 when registration began. I'm still bitter about that 3 hours of lost sleep... At that audition, I got my first taste of "entertainment unfairness". There were a SMALL handful of really, really good singers, but when I listened to the top 25 semi-finalists (of which I was not one), I realized that apparently talent was not one of the qualifying factors. It amazed me to see the vocalists that made it through. At that point, I pretty much decided that the "Idol" crapshoot was really not for me. Fortunately, I'd had plenty of warning ahead of time that this was just the way it went, so I truly didn't take it personally.

I made my way back to work, and informed my support team / cheerleading squad (thanks Greer, Brooke, David, Robert and Will :) that I had decided that my upcoming 2 vacation days would be better spent in Nashville. But alas - they would have nothing of that!

My partners in crime for the trip to DC - Tiffani and Angie, along with Q94's Skip the Prize guy, who let us talk on the air, and played Yahtzee with us.

So Monday night, August 16, around 8:00pm, I began the trek to Washington DC with 2 people I didn't know (I met 1 of the girls at Richmond Idol), and 13 million other AI hopefuls. We were not supposed to be allowed to line up until Tuesday morning at 8:00am, but of course no one listens to that! We parked near the Washington Convention Center (to the tune of $15 daily for three days), and begin lugging our (TONS of) crap through the most savory (NOT) parts of DC. Lines had already formed, and we worked our way through security (as I bitterly threw away my Starbucks Double Shots - that darn "no cans allowed" rule...) and up to "the flats", where we were to camp out for the next two days. (and if you're still reading, I'm amazed, but glad to know you share my pain! ;)

"The flats"

We were stacked into what looked like cattle holding pens, where we were instructed to line our sleeping bags up back to back (and I do mean this literally - my sleeping bag touched other peoples' sleeping bags on 3 sides) and we set up camp there. For much of the next 36 hours, we had the privilege of listening to karaoke. The 1-page song list was incredibly limited, thus I never want to hear Fugees "Killing Me Softly", Usher's "U Got it Bad", or anything by Justin Timberlake EVER again. I think that was the most painful part. Oh WAIT - far more painful than that, and constantly competing for decibel volumes were the "gospel" groups that kept cropping up around the place. Now don't get my wrong - I am a spiritual person, and I make no bones about being a believer, but I DON'T want to hear a 200 person "gospel" choir in charismatic competition within itself at 3:00am, getting louder and higher with each passing measure. And their Christianity stopped at their music, because when one of my "flat-mates" went to ask them to lower their voices, she was rewarded with an accidentally on-purpose elbow to the head. Very Christ-like...

Thank GOD, we were able to escape the madness for a little while, while entrusting our possessions to other flat-mates. There was pretty much of an honor code, and for the most part, it was followed. Tiffani, Angie, (the girls that drove me to DC) and I were able to walk around the city for a while, visit the Smithsonian, and make a trip to Hooters for some wings and a MUCH-needed beer. Otherwise, I watched my flatmates blow bubbles, make balloon animals, and read Harry Potter in between futile attempts at concrete floor-inhibited sleep...

Tiffani, Kari, and Angie at Hooters

The chaos continued Wednesday morning when the cattle-lines began to move. We stood in a constantly moving line for about 5 hours (strange - the 50 degree FREEZING cold in there, especially considering the 90 degree heat the night before) until we got to a huge room. There were 12 tables around the room, and 4 people at a time stood at each table. 1 of each 4 would sing, then the producers would make their decision. I was lucky enough to get a Simon Cowell-sounding British blonde that I had read horror stories about on the AI chat forums. Although she swayed, snapped along and smiled to my song, which was (don't laugh) a soulful white-girl female version of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing", (which was better than the blank or openly critical stares she gave most people), after the four of us were finished singing, she thanked us for waiting, but we were "not what we're looking for". In fact, we saw no one make it in the whole time we stood there, besides a orange, bushy-haired Macy Gray look-alike that flailed her arms and legs while moaning an off-key version of a dead Whitney Houston hit. Maybe she'll be the next William Hung...

Of course we were disappointed, but we had gotten a good (or bad) taste of the hurry-up-and-wait of the entertainment industry, and we were amazed at how relieved we were to be going home, and especially after subsequently sitting in DC traffic for the next 4 hours to get home, courtesy of a jack-knifed 18 wheeler blocking ALL lanes of traffic.

So it's on to bigger and better things for me now. It was quite an experience, and I guess it could have been a lot worse (like for Kim and Terri - the girls beside me that traveled 9 1/2 hours from Michigan). For now, it's just about appreciating my WONDERFUL fans here, and just having fun making music!