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What are you waiting for?
Auditioning for quality time
by Linda Gentile
It was August, 2005, and I was standing ankle deep in mud. All I could see were the backs of people and water cascading down their umbrellas.
My alarm had gone off at 3:30 that morning -- the first of many times that day when I asked what the heck I was doing.
"Are you ready to go yet?" my son had said, excitedly.
"Umph," I answered.
We walked out into the still-black night. "You're driving," I told him. "I'm not even awake yet."
As he drove, his excitement started to rev me up. After all, we were going to the American Idol auditions at Gillette Stadium. My son, Anthony, a huge American Idol fan from day one, was psyched when he heard that auditions were finally going to be in our area. Anthony had been singing and performing since the age of ten, and he saw this as his big chance.
Then, the rain, the mud, the long lines. When the stadium gates finally opened at 8 a.m., the crowd surged forward. We were now wedged in tightly to each other, all of us fruitlessly trying to stay dry.
We made it through the gate and security people directed us where to go. We got inside the stadium and went over to the processing tables. They took our required IDs and gave us tickets for our reserved seats. We were then told that we had to be in our seats by 8:30 a.m. the next day.
That next day, we arrived at the stadium a little after 6:00 a.m. and found our seats. Thousands of people around us were practicing their vocal skills, or, in some cases, mauling the classics. Even the bathrooms contained the tinny echo of people practicing their singing.
I heard a lot of people speculate aloud as to where the judges were. Thanks to slick editing, American Idol makes auditioning seem like a one-day process. But in reality, no one gets in front of Randy, Paula, and Simon until months later -- at a different location.
Now, the cameras were set up and someone from the show came out to direct us. "We're going to sing 'Singing in the Rain'," he shouted. On cue, we all started singing. We did this about 20 times while the cameras whisked over the crowds.
"Now yell 'Welcome to Boston!'" he said. I realized how carefully orchestrated many "reality" shows really are. Everything seems so spontaneous on TV, but nothing is left to chance. In all, our group's "spontaneity" took about an hour to film.
By this time we were all getting anxious -- even those of us not auditioning. We were finally told what the auditioning procedure was going to be: 14 tables were set up along the football field. At each table were two producers. The singers would line up in fours. Each singer would get a chance to sing for 60 seconds. If the producers liked you, you were given a yellow form and went to the tunnel on the left. If they did not like you, you were told to go to the exit on the right. We watched as most people went to the right.
Our turn finally came. Only contestants and parents were allowed on the field. As we edged closer my son made it clear that he did not want me too near when he started singing. Although I wasn't thrilled by this, I honored it. I knew he was nervous and wanted to concentrate on what he was doing.
When it was his turn to sing, I stood a discreet distance away, watching and trying to catch my breath. He sang his song and I saw the judges talk to him. They seemed to be taking a good amount of time with him. I saw this as a good sign, but then I saw him turn away with no golden ticket, heading to the right.
I ran after him. "What did they say?" I asked.
"They told me I was good but I needed more practice. They told me I could audition in Cleveland."
Cleveland! We both knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Listen," I told him. "I know you're disappointed but I am so proud of you for trying. I think what you did was really cool."
"What about getting up at the crack of dawn and then getting soaked to the skin?" he asked. "I thought you had a terrible time."
"Are you kidding?" I answered. "I wouldn't have missed this time with you for the world!
Not even at 3:30 a.m.
Linda Gentile lives in Longmeadow with her daughter, Melissa, 15. Anthony, now 19, is a freshman at UMass, Amherst. Linda works as a School Adjustment Counselor at Indian Orchard Elementary School, performs in local plays and sings with the Dan Kane Singers.
