Music can heal and torture

The whole country listens to and watches TV's "American Idol." It's one of those reality shows that encourages a person to dream they will be the next Carrie Underwood or David Archuleta.

It is amazing to imagine there are thousands who wake up before dawn to wait hours to be heard. The day turns into a few seconds for them to stand before judges to fulfill their lifelong passion. Typically, 10,000 hopefuls filling a stadium are ushered in groups to audition. If they fail the first test of seconds, they are directed to the exit, and their registration band is unceremoniously snipped off.

The talented, perhaps the lucky, or sometimes the bizarre go from one producer, then another. They are given a second or third chance before they come before the musical trinity. Their fate and the fate of the listeners are in the hands of these modern Apollos.

It's logical that those with golden throats, shining personalities and a dash of cuteness should have the opportunity to show their stuff. But it is all the others who are both puzzling and painful to see and hear.

Over and over again, these people who are exploited by the show as the comedic relief make the oddest noises come from their lips. One deadly decibel later, everyone is scurrying for shelter from the sound.

Without Juilliard training, most of us know what bad, off-key screams sound like. However, it is not only the pain of listening, but also the agony of hearing them go on like they can sing. The more they boast they are the next "Idol," the faster you search for the mute button.

The noise is troublesome, but so is the amusement others gain from the absolute lack of self-awareness. Does singing in the shower hypnotize one to go on national television to make a fool of oneself? Is it the result of listening to heavy metal music that both numbs one's mind and damages one's hearing? Perhaps it is seeing bare-chested, hairy, tattoo-laden, gyrating yellers in concert making millions that says, "If they can, I can."

These spectacles of no personal insight and even a touch of emotional or cognitive insufficiency are not funny to watch and definitely are not fun to hear. Producers think otherwise. One would anticipate the utter humiliation of having their name, hometown and face broadcast around the world, demonstrating they couldn't sing a note and couldn't carry a tune in a bucket would be sufficient to make the clueless stop and think.

Where is personal respect? Where is the reality-check box? Or does fame, no matter how it's obtained, dampen any shame?