Damn you, American Idol
I don't know how you did it. I was noncommittal all season. Sometimes I'd watch, sometimes I wouldn't. Sometimes I'd flip the TV over to Fox for a couple minutes to see if I could pinpoint the exact substance Paula had been using, or to get a little Simon fix, or to study Jason Castro so I would know what one of my coworkers was talking about when he'd IM me "Jason Castro is A GIANT TOOL" every Wednesday morning. But right there at the end, when I least expected it, you sucked me in, American Idol. YOU SUCKED ME IN AND HUGGED MY SOUL AND BROUGHT TEARS TO MY COLD, CYNICAL EYES!
I love David Cook and I love this song and I love the way he sang it and I played it a million times at work today. And tonight, when big David had his arm around little David's shoulders, and Ryan Seacrest did his whole "Your American Idol is David (dramatic pause) Cook!" thing, I am not ashamed to say I completely got goosebumps and a tiny little lump in my throat, like I was being cuddled up in one giant, feel-good blanket.
(For the record, though, can I just say that I think Simon completely played all of America? I think he purposely called out David Cook during the finale just to make everyone rush to his defense with their mad little speed dialing and text messaging fingers. And you know what? IT WORKED. As soon as the show ended, even though I hadn't voted all season, I was like, I HAVE TO VOTE FOR DAVID COOK. Simon Cowell, mastermind and psychological genius. He could totally reverse-psychology the entire country into walking around without their pants if he wanted to, I just know it.)
Of course, David Cook probably could, too. IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.