American Idol Auditions Part I

On Wednesday, August 20^th, 2003 my hopes and thousands of others’ hopes were collectively crushed as we reached the pinnacle of our event. The end was anything but climactic; we were sent off with minimal words and no fanfare. “Sorry, but you aren’t what we’re looking for.”

The incident of which I am speaking was the American Idol auditions. You know; that show on FOX with Simon; the guy with the brutal commentary? Yep, that’s the one! Contrary to popular belief, Simon, Paula and Randy (the celebrity judges) do not see the thousands of people who audition for the show; they see perhaps 150 people from each city. To get through to them you must make it through two auditions: the “cattle call” and one callback audition in front of the executive producers for the show. I know what you’re thinking, “If there are two rounds of auditions before the celebrity judges, how come there are so many horrible people that you see audition?” The answer: ratings. If everyone were good, who would Simon make fun of? That brings us to the actual audition process, dates, times and places. At the time I decided to audition, there were only 4 audition cities to choose from: Los Angeles, CA, Austin, TX, Atlanta, GA and New York, NY. Not many choices at present when in previous years there had been upwards of 8 cities to audition in. I guess that the smartest and easiest thing would have been to audition in New York since it is the closest city, but I guess that I wanted a challenge! Silly me, I went to Atlanta.

Just in case you were wondering how I got into all of this, in my life outside of Harms, I enjoy singing. My father is a musician (he was a music teacher in a former life and he is now the Executive Administrator for the Caroline County Council of Arts [=lengthy title for someone who works for peanuts]) and he instilled in me the love of the arts at an early age. Now for a brief (okay, not so brief) resume and biography: I’ve been singing in some capacity for as long as I can remember and have had a lot of different experiences on the stage and in different competitions. I conquered my fear of public speaking at the age of 9 when I made it to the 4-H state level championship for my first time. After that, I competed in several local talent revues which to be honest wasn’t that big of a deal in Caroline County. In the 3^rd – 7^th grades I was an Alto in chorus and from 5^th-8^th grade I was 1^st chair in trumpet (what can I say, I was a tomboy!). From middle school through high school, I had parts in 6 or 7 plays and musicals, landing lead roles in Bye Bye Birdie, Girl Crazy, As You Like It and Give my Regards to Broadway. When I was 16, I took voice lessons for about a year but I wasn’t as serious as I should have been and didn’t make much progress. In the fall of 1998, I enrolled at Chesapeake Community College (on the Eastern Shore) and took a speech and theatre class (along with a remedial Algebra class and an English 101 that I was not at all interested in). During my brief stint at Chesapeake, I also landed a small role in The Sound of Music. For some reason the director further developed my maid character in some bizarre ways, one of which I will never forget; having to smooch a guy old enough to be my grandfather. Boy did the audience get a kick out of that! Anyhow, let’s move on to present day happenings. I started taking voice lessons again (thanks to Brenda, to be quite honest) in June of this year from an extraordinary classical singer named Carmen Mason. She has helped me hone my skills and has put me back on the right track musically. Now that you know my entire life story, let’s move on to the trip preparations.

The most difficult thing in planning the trip to Atlanta was a) not knowing when the line-up started and b) not knowing if I was going to make callbacks. Since American Idol is such a big deal, people camp out in line for several days before auditions. Theoretically, the earlier you get in line, the better your chances to audition. Some venues were rumored to not let you in any earlier than 24 hours before the audition and in some cases you could camp out for 4 days prior. As luck would have it, they didn’t announce the day of the line up until the last minute. This made hotel reservations, car rental and flight reservations practically impossible since I was on a limited budget. The last minute plans (which were finalized about a week before we were to leave) ended up being somewhat complicated. Departing on Sunday the 17^th, we were going to rent a car one way (don’t worry, Kurtis was driving) to Georgia, check into the hotel, and then drive to the airport and drop off the rental car. After dropping off the rental, we were going to take their rapid transit system (similar to Metro or Light Rail) from the airport back to the hotel. On the next day, Monday the 18^th the line up for auditions was to start at noon, so Monday through Wednesday was devoted to American Idol. Kurtis’s flight home was on Wednesday night and my flight home wasn’t until Sunday, since I obviously didn’t know the outcome of my audition beforehand. And if I had known the outcome, I wouldn’t have wasted a week’s vacation time and I would also have one of those 900 numbers and my own commercials like Miss Cleo!

As you might imagine, Murphy’s Law came into effect and things didn’t go exactly as planned. On the 16^th, Kurtis and I debated picking up the rental car that evening or just getting up an hour or two early the next day (3 a.m.) to pick up the rental so that we wouldn’t feel as rushed to get to Atlanta (the one way car rental rates are through the roof and if you go over 24 hours, you get charged $25 for each hour you are late). So I called Budget and they assured me that their kiosk at the airport is open 24 hours and I could pick up the rental car whenever I desired. So at 3 a.m. on the 17^th, the alarm went off and at 3:30 a.m. we were at the airport. Problem: no one was at the kiosk! The light was on, but nobody was home! So we waited probably 15 minutes and I placed a call to the rental agency. The agency’s reply: “Oh, but we’re open 24 hours, there must be somebody there. They must be walking the parking lot checking on the cars.” The problem with that was that all of the cars in the garage were in plain view. We walked around to some of the other rental agencies and got rates, but they were ridiculously high, so that bagged that idea. The woman at the nearest kiosk mentioned that he had a “habit of wondering off, people are always looking for him.” So after half an hour to 45 minutes of frustration, Kurtis offered to drive his Jeep to Atlanta (there is no way that my Mexican Jetta would even make it as far as Virginia). At 5:10 a.m. we finally got on our way after having wasted two hours of time.

American Idol Auditions – Part II

The drive down was uneventful for the most part. We had some problems finding a Cracker Barrel in Ashland, VA, that we spotted after we had given up and were on the exit ramp to go back on 95 South. Only two pieces of road kill were spotted on the way to Georgia, one was a poor creature beyond recognition and the other one was a stuffed toy seal. When we got into Atlanta, I was particularly glad that I wasn’t driving – I-85 had turned into a 7-lane highway. It made the Capital Beltway look like B & A Boulevard! Amazingly, we found our hotel with little difficulty and pulled under the portico at 5:25 p.m. The only surprise at the hotel was a $9 a day parking fee – good grief! We ate at the Hard Rock Café for dinner, which turned out to be one of the coolest ones that I’ve been in if it weren’t for the pounding headache that I had and the bartender screaming “Turn it up!!” from across the restaurant. By 9 p.m., I was back at the hotel and sleeping like a baby.

I woke up early on the 18^th; probably around 7 a.m. and headed downstairs. The hotel’s continental breakfast was nothing special, and to be honest it was difficult to eat with the major butterflies in my stomach. After breakfast, I started packing up my clothes, baby wipes (just in case I couldn’t shower) and sleeping bag for the 4-block trek to the Georgia Dome in 90-degree heat. At 11:45, Kurtis and I departed for the Georgia Dome so that we could arrive just in time for the supposed 12 o’clock dash into line. According to American Idol’s website, you could line up no earlier than noon on August 18^th; otherwise you would be turned away. We proceeded to Gate D as instructed per the official webpage on Fox and saw that there were already people lined up in front of Gate D. No problem, maybe we were 2 or 3 minutes past 12… so we started walking down the side of the building, figuring that the line would end soon. Then we turned the corner by Gate C and found a zig-zag line of about 1,000 people…so we kept walking…thinking that the line must end around the corner…wrong again! After rounding one more corner, we spotted the end of the line, which had about 2,500 – 3,000 people in it already. I should also add that this line would have been even longer had most people not been standing 2 and 3 abreast.

As we started our journey at Gate D, I noticed that there was a sign that said “No food or drinks. Only one small bag, sleeping bag and pillow per person allowed inside the dome.” So when I finally got to the end of the line, I began reorganizing my bags, trying to figure out which pair of my shoes I could do without – a woman’s worst nightmare. To make matters worse, the line was slowly moving forward and each time the line moved I would drop several items of clothing. Finally with Kurtis’s help, I got things straightened out with my bags and was able to talk with some of my line mates. There was Wes, the obnoxious guy from Alabama who I would later regret talking to at all, Dustin and Stephanie; a 17 year old couple from Florida who were passing the time by guzzling a vodka concoction, and Ashley and her dad Mark from Indiana who were by far the most normal people I met. I got to know all of these people very well by the time we got up to the doors at Gate D at 7 o’clock that evening. By that time, Kurtis had taken my extra stuff back to the hotel room, come back to hang out for a little while and left again. At the doors, they checked our ID’s (you have to be between the ages of 16 and 24 in order to audition), gave us ‘American Idol’ stamps and wristbands. The deal was that you could come and go as long as you had a wristband. After I got inside, Ashley and I were instructed to go to section L47 (although after looking at the seating chart, it appears I was actually in section 138) and pick a seat; that would be the order that they called the auditions in. Those seats would have been great to watch a football game from; they were right on the 50 yard line! After securing our seats we (being Ashley and me) walked down the concourse to pick out our camping spot. We got a good place, right next to the women’s bathrooms and the Pizza Hut booth. That night I wandered around talking to people and spent some time outside with Ashley and her dad who were outside tailgating. It seemed that they were on a 24-hour party schedule, it was insane.

Inside the dome, the TVs were on, showing the same shows over and over and over again. That’s the first clue I had that they were trying to psychologically torture us. At 11:30, they announced that they were going to dim the lights and turn off the TVs. The lights weren’t dimmed until at least midnight, and they left the TVs blaring until 1 a.m. They didn’t seem all that loud until people stopped talking (and singing!). Of course when things were quieter you could hear how loudly snores echo in that place. Some of them were so loud that I wished that I’d brought earplugs! I ended up falling asleep shortly after they turned off the televisions.

American Idol Auditions – Part III

On August 19^th (the day before auditions) I awoke at 5 a.m. to the sound of trash carts being wheeled by my head. I attempted to get back to sleep but gave up at 7 and read a book for a while. That morning, Ashley, Mark and I went to Underground Atlanta (a local mall) to meet up with Kurtis for breakfast. In the food court of the mall, I was eyewitness to an amusing bum encounter. In Atlanta, the bums have no shame; they come into malls, shops and restaurants to bother you while you are eating or shopping!  Ashley, Mark, Kurt and me purchased our meals and proceeded to eat. While Kurtis and I were still finishing our meals, a bum came up to Ashley and asked her if he could have the rest of her meal.  She offered it to him and he told her, "No thanks, I don't like salad." I guess that he’d never heard the phrase “beggars can’t be choosers.” I think that he just wanted to give the illusion of being hungry in hopes that we would take pity on him and give him money.

After doing some exploring downtown, I went back to my hotel room for a short nap. Unfortunately due to my level of anxiety, I didn’t sleep for very long. After half an hour, I got up and trudged back to the Georgia Dome in the sweltering heat. I spent a few hours at the Dome filling out postcards, updating my audition journal and doing some reading. I returned to the hotel several hours later with Ashley in tow. We each took much-needed showers to wash the grime from our bodies. Kurtis walked with us from the hotel to the CNN center where we had our “Last Supper” at a place called Jock & Jill’s. We returned to the stadium at 10 p.m. to find that a few thousand more people had arrived for the auditions; the entrance was teeming with people. Over the loudspeaker, they announced that they would be dimming the lights early that night and they would get everyone up in “plenty of time” to get ready for the 8 o’clock auditions. Although I knew I should get to sleep early, it didn’t happen; there were people milling about and I was too tense to sleep. Of course, I stayed up talking to some people who were camped near me that I’d become friends with. When I went back to my sleeping bag an hour later, I was dismayed to find a shady looking guy who had set up camp and was sleeping too close for comfort to my spot! He was actually laying on a few inches of my sleeping bag…so I piled my backpack and shoes on top of my sleeping bag and dragged it down the hall to where my friends were. As soon as I did, the obnoxious guy from the line (Wes, from whom I’d managed to escape once inside the dome) spotted me and made a beeline for me. During this period, a 19 year old girl named Jade and her mom set up camp next to me and proceeded to converse with Wes for the next hour. I don’t think that they would have encouraged him had they stood next to him in line for 7 hours! I finally got to sleep around 1:30 a.m. After 2 hours (that would be 3:30 a.m. for those of you keeping track at home) of sleep, I woke up in a cold sweat; the A/C was cranked down to about 60 degrees! Our captors turned on the lights for a little while at that time, but turned them back off after 10 minutes. I noticed some people getting ready in the bathroom at around 4 a.m., but I saw no reason to start primping. Around 4:30, they turned on some weird music for a few minutes, and then turned it off again. Then our tormentors turned the lights on and off again. Every 15 minutes from 4:30 until 5:30, they would do something weird with the lights or music over the loudspeakers and nobody could figure out what time we should start getting ready. As you can imagine, it was difficult to get back to sleep with these disturbances, (not to mention nerve-wracking) and I consumed half a bottle of Tums in those two hours. At 5:30, they turned the lights on and left them on, so that’s when people started getting ready. At 5:45 a.m., we were told that we needed to get our stuff together, be ready to audition and in our seats by 6:15 a.m. So much for getting us up in “plenty of time to get ready.”  The bathrooms were mobbed; I couldn't even brush my teeth and the men were even complaining that their bathrooms were crowded. Having the guys complain about their bathrooms was indicative of just how bad the situation was.  When we got to our seats we were told that we had to take our sleeping bags and personal items out to our cars, or drag them down to the field with us (during our audition), since after we auditioned we would not be allowed to re-enter the stadium or stands. Fortunately I was able to take my backpack and sleeping bag out to Ashley’s dad’s van.

There were 11 tables set up down on the field. Each had one judge and two production assistants. You were to sing one song of your choice a cappella (without music) and could sing one verse and a chorus before being stopped. The way it worked, if the judge liked you, you were allowed to keep your wristband, the assistant on the right wrote down your information and you exited right, back out to the Gate D entrance. If you were one of the 10,500 unlucky people to get cut however, you had your wristband cut off on the spot and exited to the left; out the back through the servant’s entrance. On a positive note, you did get to go out the same way that visiting football teams do! (And with the Falcon’s record this season, it is better to be on the visiting team)

Shortly after 7, the opening shots of auditions were being filmed. Trying to get 11,000 stinky, grouchy, sleep-deprived people to cheer the way that the production crew wanted took about 4 or 5 takes to get right. We heard “Good morning Atlanta!” “Who thinks that they are the next American Idol?” and requests to do ‘the wave’ quite a few times. If you listen closely, you may be able to hear my voice answering those questions, and perhaps you’ll even see me doing the wave (section L47, row 23, seat 21). We were shown a video of Clay and Ruben wishing us luck for our auditions and they wanted us to cheer for that, too. Why on earth we were supposed to cheer for a pre-recorded video is beyond me; it’s not like they were actually there. Apparently, everyone shared the same thinking that I did - as before, the production crew was upset with us. “Clay and Ruben took time out of their busy schedules to make this for you, and we are going to show them this tape. Show them some appreciation!” Believe it or not, they actually said that to us! I’m sure for the show they’ll end up using canned cheering and clapping.

American Idol Auditions – Part IV

At 7:53 a.m., the first group of people auditioned at Table 1, and all three were immediately cut. By 8:20 a.m., I would estimate that 200 people had auditioned and they had taken only 10 people for callbacks. It was incredibly discouraging to see how many people were getting cut. At 10:30 a.m., my section was herded down to the field. The line snaked from the 50-yard line down to the goal line and back to the 50. When Ashley and I got to the end of the line, a guy directed us to go to Table 2 -- I was ecstatic! Table 2 was one of the tables that seemed to be letting more people through. Of course, Murphy’s Law came into effect and we were asked to move to the line for Table 1. We complained to the guy with the cattle prod, but it was no use – we were stuck at the unforgiving table.

I witnessed five groups of three people audition before it was my turn and saw some excellent people get turned away. There was also a guy two groups ahead of me who sang a comical rendition of “Up on Rocky Top” that had everyone in our line (and the line next to us) laughing and cheering. But alas, our judge had no sense of humor; Rocky Top Guy had his wristband cut off and was sent out through the left tunnel (he was sent to the locker room for x-rays, his return is listed as doubtful – we’ll have an update on his status at half-time). I felt really sorry for a girl in the group who auditioned before me; the poor thing was shaking like a leaf and it was painfully obvious that she was scared to death. Unfortunately, that showed in her voice and she, along with the other two people in the group, was cut.

Before I knew it, my group was in front of the table and the judge was staring with confusion at the Beanie Baby Frog that I was holding. “I’ve never seen a frog with hair before,” he said. I told him, “You’ve never heard the phrase ‘Fine as frog’s hair’?” It was apparent from the expression on his face that he had not heard the phrase (he has evidently never worked at Harms). In hindsight, making that statement most likely put me in the “not-serious-about-the-actual-competition-just-wants-to-be-on-TV” category. I was doomed to join Rocky Top Guy and be lumped into the category of comedic outcasts. He took waiver forms from the three of us, then looked at me and said, “Okay, you go first.” I put on the bravest face I could muster and belted out two verses and a chorus of “Joy to the World” with my frog; Jeremiah the Bullfrog. Throughout my performance (and it was a performance, I’m sure that I looked ridiculous dancing with that frog) he smiled at me and was nodding his head. I thought that somehow he was going to let me through. Ashley went next, singing “No Rain”. The judge stopped her partway through and told her to sing something else. “Me and Bobby McGee” was her second choice of song, and I thought she sounded great, although she was shaking. After a verse and chorus of that, he turned to the girl on the end, who sang, “His Eye is on the Sparrow”. After that, I was sure that Ashley and I were going through, because everyone was singing, “His Eye is on the Sparrow”, and I had heard that the judges were sick of hearing it. Leave it to the judge at Table 1 to tell Ashley and me “Sorry, but you aren’t what we’re looking for.” Our wristbands were cut and we were sent packing. Blondie Sparrow-girl however, was sent on to the next round. There was no point in making a big scene, because there were no cameras at our table; no witnesses to our demise but the people behind us who would join our ranks in the next few minutes.

Ashley and I wandered off the field and through the left tunnel. We were directed out through a maze of corridors to the back doors where we found others in our same predicament. There were some people crying, others were angry, but most were just in shock that they didn’t make it. I was somewhere in between all of those emotions, holding back tears and trying to look like I didn’t care. We waited by the back doors as we saw each one of our talented friends stream through. It was a reunion of sorts, since we were seeing the same people we had waited in line with during our first day – back when we were fresh-smelling and optimistic about our chances of being famous. We hugged and consoled each other, saying things like, “It wasn’t fair”, “The show is rigged”, “I got a bad judge”, “I should have sang a different song”, “I got a cold sleeping on the concrete”, and “They only wanted bad people!” Not a single person who I’d befriended in those 3 days got a callback audition. I slunk out to the parking lot with my fellow auditioners and (only half-jokingly) said, “I’m going to go back to my hotel room and cry now.” One of the girls standing by Mark and Ashley’s van said, “Don’t you dare! Don’t you cry over what they’re doing, because it’s all (insert expletive here)!” I told her that I was only kidding, but I don’t think she bought it.

I was too humiliated to call Kurtis to tell him what had transpired and consequently we missed each other as I went back to the hotel and he went to the Dome looking for me. When he got back to the hotel, he cheered me up and calmed me down. All I wanted to do was sleep, but as luck would have it, housekeeping hadn’t been to the room yet and I was sure that they would come disturb me. To pass the time, I decided that I wanted to go get some ice cream or other comfort food. We’d walked a few blocks when we were stopped by a guy who asked us if we would like a free lunch at the Montana Grill. They were opening their restaurant in a few days and were training their staff. We of course agreed and ordered Bison Burgers, which were their specialty. The free lunch wasn’t much of a consolation prize, but it did lift my mood. When I got back to the hotel, I slept for the rest of the day. The next few days were spent exploring Atlanta and realizing that there was nothing to see. More than anything, being in Atlanta made me appreciative of the area that I live in. We hated Atlanta so much that we even returned home a day early.

Even though I didn’t make callbacks, I would audition again in a heartbeat. It was an incredible experience that not too many people can say that they’ve had. I knew that my chances were slim, but I took them anyway.  Some people may think to sleep on concrete for two days is foolish just to get an audition in front of a non-celebrity judge who probably has secret criteria to select people by. In summary, I think that getting noticed at American Idol auditions are 40% luck, 40% look and 20% talent. Next year I’m getting a Mohawk and dying my hair pink – an instant rocket to fame! If that fails, then I’ll have to rely on hard work, patience, and perseverance – but what’s the fun in that?