Stay Awesome, "Glee"

I love "Glee" so much that I'm already worried about the moment, perhaps inevitable, when it starts to make me crazy. I saw it happen to my friends who got sucked in to "Lost" and "Heroes," and the depth of their disappointment when those shows went off the rails ... well, it was troubling.

So far, the musical bits have been fabulous and the casting is spot on. I don't know how much Fox is paying Jane Lynch to portray cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester, but it's probably not enough. The woman is a master of the withering one-liner ("I’ve always thought the desire to procreate showed deep, personal weakness."), and her character is terrifying. Then there is Kurt, glorious Kurt, who cracks me up with the mere arch of an eyebrow. I thought the episode where he came out to his flannel-wearing dad was expertly handled. After Kurt stammered that he was gay, his dad shrugged and said, "I know." That he wasn't thrilled about it but still openly loved his kid seemed realistic — and it was touching.

In fact, that particular episode illustrated what makes "Glee" work so well: its successful combination of absurdity (the football team dancing to "Single Ladies") and poignancy (quarterback Finn's terror of being stuck in his hometown forever because of his girlfriend's pregnancy). And don't even get me started on how effing fabulous Kristin Chenowith was a few weeks ago as a drunken, former glee club star. The show's high goofball factor helps it get away with stereotypes that would otherwise be annoying.

But I'm not completely blinded by devotion. No show is perfect, but sometimes I worry that the things I don't like about "Glee" will start to overwhelm the rest. Like the constant focus on Rachel and Finn's mutual infatuation. I really like Rachel's character, particularly her awareness that her ruthless ambition alienates people. Finn's hunky/dim schtick is adorable. But what initially hooked me was the motley crew of glee club members, and the assumption that they'd all get a chance to shine. I want to know more about Tina, the Asian girl who auditioned with a ridiculously aggressive rendition of "I Kissed a Girl." But she's barely spoken since the pilot. Will Mercedes, the club's budding Aretha, be given more to do than make sassy remarks about her friends' shenanigans? I love the fact that Artie's wheelchair is regularly worked into song-and-dance routines. And the boy is funny. What's his story?

I realize the show hasn't been on that long, and maybe the "Glee" writers are getting to all that. For all I know, Artie and Tina may become an item. But I've been watching television too long to expect the unexpected, even from a really good show. Now that the show has caught on and grabbed the attention of people like Madonna, I fear a parade of Rihanna-esque cameos and repetition of themes that are already starting to wear out their welcome.

Here's hoping I'm wrong. For now, I'm unavailable Wednesday nights from 9 to 10.

Fingers Crossed For "Glee"

As someone who has a habit of liking critically-acclaimed shows that get canceled, I'm wary of getting too attached to "Glee." It's a funny, quirky show about geeks, one that assumes (correctly) that high school mostly blows. And when has that ever panned out?

But if the pilot episode is indicative of what's to come, I hope "Glee" makes it. Maybe it doesn't achieve the greatness of "Freaks and Geeks," but it's got loads of potential.

When a high school glee club loses its director in a scandal, teacher Will Schuester (Matthew Morrison) steps in to keep it going and to reconnect with his passion for song. But even the principal thinks glee club is for losers, refusing to pony up the $40 a month required to run it. But Schuester isn't dissuaded, and once word gets out, the school's aspiring songbirds come forward.

These kids are my people — ambitious nerds who have that "One day you losers will know how awesome I am" gleam in their eye. Rachel (Lea Michele), who is talented but delusional, uploads new performance video daily on her MySpace page. Diva-in-training Mercedes (Amber Riley) declares that she shouldn't be singing backup because "I'm Beyonce, not Kelly Rowland." The only member with any social standing is quarterback Finn (Cory Monteith), a Troy Bolton type who wants to throw footballs and sing show tunes.

But my favorite glee club member, by far, is Kurt (Chris Colfer), who is clearly a friend of Dorothy. He begs the jocks to remove his Marc Jacobs jacket before they toss him into the dumpster, and when he belts out "Cellophane Man" during his audition, he does so with a hand on his hip and an I-do-this-in-my-sleep stroke of his bangs.

Perhaps best of all, "Glee" has the wonderful Jane Lynch, playing a ball-busting cheerleading coach who sees the new club as a threat. No one delivers a put-down quite like Lynch, who, upon seeing one of her cheerleaders flub a move, says, "You think this is hard? Being water-boarded is hard."

My only quibble is that Schuester's Pottery Barn-obsessed wife is a shade too unlikable to be believed. Otherwise, "Glee" has captured my attention in a way network television hasn't for years. When it returns in the fall, I'll be there with my jazz hands ready.

I Knew Craig Ferguson Was Awesome ...

But not THIS awesome!

Snap Judgment: "JONAS"

When I was around 7 years old, I fell in love with re-runs of "The Monkees," which, in my opinion, never got the respect it deserved. Everyone gets hung up on the prefab band thing (they did eventually play their own instruments) and overlooked the show's pioneering wackiness. Certain friends of mine know that my affection for this show and the band members lasted well into my teen years. (Peter Tork, if you're reading this, you were always my favorite.)

So when reviewers compared the Jonas Brothers' newest vehicle for world domination, "JONAS," to "The Monkees," I was skeptical. Successfully combining comedy with music is harder than it looks, and I was prepared for this show to be about as entertaining as a marathon of "Wizards of Waverly Place." But just as I once underestimated their musical chops, I didn't give the Jonas Brothers enough credit in the humor department. The show is effortlessly likable, and there's a self-deprecating undertone to it.

The singers play slightly altered versions themselves, only they're rock stars who attend high school. The first episode would have us believe that Nick, the "serious" one, is always getting his heart broken. Right. Anyway, there is a genuinely funny song sequence involving a very awkward set of angel wings. Just when you think the show is going down Teen Cliche Avenue, it veers in the other direction. Apparently, one of the "JONAS" directors worked on the short-lived but innovative '90s show "Parker Lewis Can't Lose," and a similar zany spirit pervades this show. I could do without the hyperventilating fan character, but my children thought her scenery gnawing was hilarious.

Let's face it; the people watching this show are the trio's rabid kid-to-tween fans and any parent who happens to be in the room. Those convinced that the band epitomizes The Problem With Youth Today won't be converted, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed "JONAS." I wouldn't put down a good book to tune in, but if I'm just folding laundry while the kids are watching it, sure. Unlike "Hannah Montana," it didn't make me want to flee.

Train-Wreck TV: "Toddlers and Tiaras"

Were she alive today, child pageant queen JonBenet Ramsey would be 18 years old. When she was murdered in 1996, the public was inundated with child pageant footage, which elicited a mass "What the !$#@?" JonBenet was a lovely kid, but the sight of her in heavy makeup and sequins always made my skin crawl, particularly after learning the particulars of her death. Inevitably, people in the "pageant community" felt that the press had given them a raw deal, as if it were perfectly normal to spackle a 6-year-old's face with foundation and blush and trot her out for judging.

More than a decade later, the world of child beauty pageants continues to fascinate/appall outsiders. And as TLC's "Toddlers and Tiaras" series proves, it makes for compelling, train-wreck TV viewing. We just got On Demand service, and against my better judgment, I watched two episodes of "TnT" over the weekend.

The show is pretty straightforward, with each episode focusing on a handful of pageant hopefuls with various levels of experience. What struck me immediately was that, in many cases, you can tell the parents don't have much money — yet, they're spending hundreds upon hundreds of dollars for their kids' highlights, spray-on tans, fake nails, hair extensions and God knows what else. And despite the shameless, relentless focus on their daughters' appearance and poise, many of the moms have let themselves go to hell. Whenever the dads are on camera, they seem vaguely mystified and resigned. They're proud of their little girls, but their wives are running the show. (I admit that there was one sweet moment when a girl's grandfather, a retired coal miner, helped her practice her "prissy" walk across the living room floor.)

As for the girls themselves, it's hard to tell what they think about being on the pageant circuit. Sure, it's fun to play dress up, win ribbons and have strangers tell you how pretty you are, but it seems like they'd be just as happy playing jump rope. I'm convinced that they'd be so much better off playing a sport than skipping across a stage in "casual wear." Maybe they're taking soccer lessons, too, but I'm skeptical.

At one point, my son took a break from saving the universe to see what I was looking at. When a girl who looked to be about four (his sister's age) began shimmying in a yellow, ruffled bikini, he put on his Serious Face and said, "Whoa, that is SO inappropriate!"

I don't have a problem with TLC for airing the show. Frankly, the child beauty pageant is an interesting, if bizarre, part of American culture, and the show is ripe for water-cooler analysis: Are pageants a harmless, fun way for girls to build their self confidence or an early, creepy introduction to sexual objectification? I know which one I'm going with.

Judging Books By Their Covers

I was as touched as anyone by the footage of 47-year-old Susan Boyle slaying the "Britain's Got Talent" crowd with her performance
of "I Dreamed a Dream." It was a great television moment.

But here's what's been bugging me: Why were the judges so flipping astonished that she could sing? Could it be because she's middle-aged and not gorgeous? I understand that people are judged by their looks, especially in the entertainment industry. There's a reason Steve Buscemi didn't have Tom Cruise's career, even though Buscemi is a much (much) better actor. (This can cut both ways: "Oh look; the beautiful woman isn't an empty suit/moron/bimbo!") But it's not like Boyle was auditioning for "Make Me a Supermodel." She didn't even show up dressed like a circus performer, unlike some of the lost souls who audition for "American Idol." If a person can talk, there's a chance s/he might have a decent singing voice.

Unfortunately, human beings have a way of assigning qualities to others based on how they look. Studies have shown that attractive kids receive better treatment, not only from their peers (duh), but also from their teachers. If Boyle had looked like Jessica Alba, you can't tell me that the audience wouldn't have given her the benefit of the doubt instead of openly tittering and assuming she'd suck.

Don't get me wrong; it's nice to see the underdog win. I just wish people would stop reacting to Boyle's performance as if a donkey with two limbs won the Kentucky Derby.

Troy's Back!

Two facts: "Saturday Night Live" skits are wildly inconsistent and Zac Efron is so pretty and perfectly groomed that it borders on disturbing. In spite of those things, this gentle swipe at the "High School Musical" franchise made me chuckle.

Oh, Mighty Isis!

One of the better parts of DC's "52" series was the tragic romance of Black Adam and Isis. It was a kick-ass storyline, but it also reminded me of a TV show I loved as a little kid: "The Secrets of Isis." It wasn't as iconic as the "Wonder Woman" series with Lynda Carter, but it definitely made an impression on me. It ran from 1975-77, around the same time that WW and "The Bionic Woman" were on the air. In those pre-"Buffy," pre-cable days, it was a very big deal to have shows about three strong, heroic women on the air at the same time — especially to a little girl having, shall we say, issues with playground assholes. (And yes, I seriously used to pretend to be Isis and say, "Oh zephyr winds that blow on high, lift me now so I can fly!")

I had no idea the show was on DVD, and I'd be curious to see how it holds up after 30 years. Probably not that well, but that doesn't make the show's existence any less awesome. Judge for yourself by watching a clip. Isis makes her appearance around the 1:17 mark.

So '80s It Hurts

Whenever I'm tempted to rant about how terrible modern children's television shows are (I'm looking at you Zack & Cody), a little voice says, "Kidd Video."

My brother and sister were little kids in the '80s, so I was at least aware of shows like "Jem" and "Thundercats" when I was a teenager. One of the most bizarre was "Kidd Video," which latched on to the popularity of music videos around 1984. The actor who played "Brady Bunch" agent of doom Cousin Oliver was in it, so that was the first red flag. The concept involved the young rockers being taken to an alterate cartoon reality, referred to as "the flip side." Naturally, they encountered a sidekick who appears to be a clumsy Tinkerbell type with leg warmers. An instant classic.