Yes, your humble Goliard is ever so slightly hooked on American Idol. And often has plenty to say about Tuesday night performances. Here is an account of the latest week’s show, which had an “inspirational” theme in honor of “Idol Gives Back”.

Tuesday was the kind of day at work that sent me home tired and cranky, and perhaps that explains my overall negative reaction to this particular night. (At least—thank God—they clamped down on the arm-wavers and overhead-clappers in the “mosh pit” tonight. If I’m going to sit through an hour of mediocre performances, the least they can do is not put anything or anyone constantly in my way while I’m trying to watch…well, except for crazy dancing Paula, about whom little can be done.) On the other hand, a cursory glance at other online fan reactions shows few who were thrilled by much on this night.

I shall spare everyone the rant on the amazingly elastic and shallow and unsatisfying concept of “inspirational” as it is found in Idol-land (I fear I’d be banging on eerily like Ignatius J. Reilly once I got started), and get right to the damage:

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What is your favorite number these days?

Mine is still 10. Followed by 14, 1, 18, and 7, to round out the top five.

It’s a good question to chew on, there being many fine choices. Even the ones that traditionally get less respect, like 13, have their charms. Sure, you might hesitate to take 13 home to meet mom and dad; but time spent out on the town with this number would surely be quite an adventure.

Yes, your humble Blog Goliard is finally back in town. I had a great time away, but at the same time I am happy to be back; and taken together, that’s a great feeling.

While travelling, I filed away a few tidbits for later blogging. One such item was an article from the Business section of Monday’s New York Times, “Couric Listens, but Who Will Watch?”, by David Carr. (I hadn’t imagined that an NFL quarterback would need a summer job these days; but at least he’s gotten one that doesn’t tax that poor body of his which was sacked 68 times last season.)

Obviously I’ve gotten out of touch with the curious world of the Timesies, because I was not prepared to run across the following flabbergasting grafs:

Fortunately Ms. Couric, I was in Minneapolis for the week, so I was able to help CBS out with a listening tour of my own in the local self-serve laundries, restaurants and bars. Give or take the dozens of people who declined to talk to me — Minnesotans are famously proud of their humility — I found some very encouraging news for Ms. Couric.

It turns out that people here, all kinds — black, white, young, old, liberal and, well, liberal — adore her. And why not? She is, by all accounts and evidence, funny, smart, nice and pretty.

Wha…but…the…mmm…how…er…what?!?

“By all accounts and evidence” Katie Couric is all of those things? Hmm. Maybe all the contrary accounts and evidence happened to surface in the middle of football season, when Mr. Carr wouldn’t have noticed. Bad luck, that; but such accounts and evidence exist nonetheless.

Let’s start with “nice”. Has everyone at the Times already forgotten the Alessandra Stanley piece from last year which famously alleged that

America’s girl next door has morphed into the mercurial diva down the hall. At the first sound of her peremptory voice and clickety stiletto heels, people dart behind doors and douse the lights. Or, at least, change the channel.

And “smart”? Er, maybe. Somewhat. But surely even Katie’s fans would hesitate to claim brainyness as her calling card, as one of the four traits you’d mention when describing her to strangers. Besides, how smart can a woman really be if she is capable of, say, gushing over Fidel Castro and how his “revolution delivered”?

(Yes, it is a very bad temptation to ascribe political differences to lack of intelligence…and as a conservative who works at a university, I know how it feels to be on the receiving end. But really—Castro?)

“Pretty”? Your Blog Goliard will err on the side of gentlemanliness here, and simply note that Katie Couric is definitely not his type.

Finally we come to “funny”. I’ll grant that Couric displays at least the minimum amount of amiable goofiness required of a morning-show personality. Yet, as was the case with “smart”, I demur at the suggestion that this is one of her defining characteristics; and I refer you to gossipy pieces like Stanley’s for a look at Couric’s apparent capacity to slip into the profoundly humorless role of Scary Diva when the cameras are off.

For his sake, I hope that David Carr is better at sizing up opposing linebackers than he is at evaluating television personalities.