Never mind how: I totally dodged the dorm life whilst in college but I visited those hallowed halls often (enough), and Casey Abrams –– a finalist on American Idol, Season Ten! –– calls to mind a particularly familiar Dorm Guy. Let’s call him a Drew.
Drew is an affable but also annoying, talented but painfully unoriginal musician who sits around strumming the big hits of the day –– in this writer’s particular case it would have been the hits of those Indigo Girls and (probably) Collective Soul –– into perpetuity. Maybe he even scores big at the local open mic night or a campus talent show, and he also manages to have won the affections of that cute and mysterious girl you were hoping to talk to before the end of the semester.
But dude never really grabs you by the throat, says, “I’m taking you, you’re mine”, and shows you how it’s done. He’s just Drew, the guy who majors in something invisible –– Public Policy and Administration, Safety, Soil Conservation –– and fades from memory like the color from orientation week t-shirts. But then! You unexpectedly run into him in –– of all places! –– Arizona two decades after graduation. He’s got three kids, still wears the same kind of faded Sears poncho he did back during his second junior year, and, you sense, takes the occasional morning bong hit on his way to the office. (No word on the girlfriend but you guess, knowing Drew as you do, that she’s still, rather inexplicably, around.) He’s got the Honda Civic and a Hootie bumper sticker and, you suspect, still keeps that secondhand Martin at the ready –– willing, as he is, to break into “Stay (I Missed You)” at a moment’s notice.
Abrams –– who is seen clothed in duds that have not been in fashion since October 1995, trust me on this –– ain’t nearly as offensive as Clay Aiken or Ruben Studdard. Truth be told he’s talented and I’m sure he’s a helluva nice guy to boot but this as forgettable and safe as anything you’d expect coming out of the Idol camp cannon fodder for karaoke night. And why cover “Hit the Road Jack”? Why?
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