Thursday, May 12

not quite Kalan Porter...

There is a guy sitting across the train from me, and he is trying so hard to look pensive and moody and upset. Okay, I am forcing this expression-choice on him, simply because he looks sad and he is carrying a dufflebag which says "Canadian Idol, top 100 2005" and I know that Canadian Idol just cut people from their top 100 this week.

Ha ha! You didn't make it, and now you are taking the train home to London or worse, a small-town in Ontario. All your dreams of fame and fortune and fourteen-year-old fans are over. You have been reduced to sitting across from a bitchy writer on the ViaRail, who is now imortalizing your failure for the entire internet.

I almost feel like I should approach him and ask him about his experience on the show but the elderly man across from him has done it for me.

"I got the exposeur that I wanted, I don't have to jump through the hoops anymore. I just want to go home and sleep. And then I am going to finish a couple of demos I am working on.."

Yeah buddy, I don't think you will even hit Richie Wilcox status. (Which is: geting nothing more than a sassy indie-art mag article written about your drinking problems and teen lust, only to vanish forever off the face of CanCon. And he had even made it into the top 10.!)