Country crock

Kenny Rogers tries to scare up sales for his new CD by coaching on AI and just scares America in the process



First things
first. Seacrest has stopped shaving. This comes hot on the
heels of his other incredibly newsworthy event of the week,
being photographed canoodling with Teri Hatcher. And
it’s been a while since I set up the Types of
Gay paradigm so I think it’s time to refresh your

Type 1 Gay: You
live in the 1920s and you’re cheerful.
Type 2 Gay: You are something stupid (golf, a cap covered in
political buttons, most folk music).
Type 3 Gay: You’re a man who dates women but you
still get manicures and your eyebrows
shaped. Type 4 Gay: You’re not even
reading this because you’re at the bathhouse on
a weekday morning.

Dating a female
cast member of Desperate Housewives = Type 2 and
Type 3. Possibly Type 4.

But it’s
the facial hair that’s really got me curious. It
simultaneously makes him look fatter (something he
could stand to be), more masculine (ditto) and,
ironically, also more Type 4.

Clarity comes
with this week’s music legend–coach: Kenny
Rogers, the King Daddy Bear of ’80s smoove
country-politan songs like “Lady” and
“Islands in the Stream.” Maybe Seacrest
is getting hirsute to win Kenny’s favor, a bid
to become his cub if the Hatcher romance doesn’t

Then we see new
improved 2006 Kenny. Why can’t old people just get
old anymore? Seriously, why? Wrinkles are not a moral
failing. And it’s supergross and disturbing
when people go off and have tons of mutilation
procedures on their faces. Gone is the widow’s
peak/receding hairline/poofy Kenny hair of old. Now
he’s bedhead-y and tousled, like the Abominable
Snowman on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. And the
face…there’s just no good reason for this sort
of thing.

On to the

Taylor Hicks
meets Kenny and manages to restrain himself from jumping
into the chorus of “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love
to Town.” In fact, Taylor seems downright
muzzled this week. Is he sick? Depressed? Adrift in the
country genre? Confused by Kenny’s new face? And it
doesn’t help that Kenny decides to bust Mr.
Soul Patrol’s balls right on camera and tell
America that Hicks’s approach to the song
“felt weak.” And that’s before
the poor gork even starts singing. Things don’t
improve when he does, though. They toss a Hobbit
fiddle player on the stage to spice things up, but it
feels like desperation, nowhere near the excitement level of
the saxophonist from a couple weeks ago. I never
thought I’d say this, but GIVE ME BACK SPAZZY
TAYLOR HICKS, PLEASE. I get enough boredom with

Commercial break:
The new X-Men movie is coming soon, and Ian
McKellen’s character talks about being a mutant
and how people want to “cure” him. Does
that mean Mandisa is in the movie? This commercial makes it
look like the gayest installment yet, so naturally the
gay director of the first two cut a trail. This one
comes courtesy of barfy hack director Brett Ratner.
Can’t wait.

Speaking of
Mandisa, she’s up next, singing “Any Man of
Mine.” According to the few lyrics I could
understand coming from her breathless, babbling mouth,
any man of Mandisa’s is going to tell her that the
dress she’s too big for looks sexy on her
anyway. What would Trinny and Susannah of What Not
to Wear
say about that sort of thing? This song has
10,000 words in it, and Mandisa is huffing and puffing to
get them all out before the band stops playing. If I
were a cynic, I might be inclined to think that
country week was a ploy to get rid of her because
she’s way out of her element here. Meanwhile,
Kenny has nothing bad to say about Mandisa. You just
know she got him in a headlock and “witnessed”
to him at some point during the week. That’s
what conservative evangelicals call it when they
badger people about Jesus.

Tags: World