As I was switching the dial on the old boob tube last night, with an eye-out for some entertaining bill-of-fare, I happened across one of the American Idol (Fox) contestants butchering a classic Frank Sinatra tune (which should have come off smooth as butter).
A second male vocalist also tried a stab at an ol' blue-eyes hit - and missed the mark - too.
Meanwhile Judges like Ellen - and even normally-sane Simon Cowell - gave the pop hopefuls a false sense of security when they raved about the misguided musical musings (disasters?).
Gosh, the taste of the Idol Judges is either up their wazoo these days, or those blaring musical interludes in-between segments these past few weeks have managed to deafen the two.
When Frank Sinatra crooned - "My Way" - the reason the celebrated hit touched (and is a all-time favorite in Karaoke bars around the globe today) - was because Frank sang each word (and the note that couched it) as if he lived it (which he had).
Frank did it "his" way.
When he crooned about the heartaches of love - or moments of reflection - the muscial emotions resonated with audiences.
The legendary singer was able to reach inward - let go, let it out - and along the way (without any regrets) reveal the innermost underpinnings of his soul.
Sinatra's bang-on phrasing and the subtle nuances in his golden voice were icing on the cake - in the final anaylsis - and were the tools of the craft he facilitated to buttress the song up so that it could float out to rest on appreciative areas.
The end result?
For a short while, audiences basked in the glow of a gifted performer - the likes of which - music-lovers will rarely ever witness on the live stage again in their lifetime.
The idol pap was all puff pastry, in my estimaton!
Frank Sinatra-style career ahead for Lambert!