'Idols' out, but Youtube welcomes fake tan oldies

"Dad, where are you going looking like that?"

It was Saturday morning, the day I'd been dreaming of all my life (or at least since Wednesday the week before last). I was trying to get out of the house unnoticed, indeed out of the neighbourhood I live in without anyone seeing me. I was, I must admit, looking a bit odd.

"And, Dad, why are you wearing such funny trousers and why is your shirt unbuttoned to your belly button? And, Dad, have you been putting fake tan on your face? And why have you got a curly wig on?"

I took a deep breath and sat down next to my laaitie as he munched through his second bowl of Strawberry Pops.

"My boy, I can explain the fake tan. I'm trying to look like a Welsh pop singer from the 1970s called Tom Jones. In those days white Welsh people were very tanned. I don't know why; they just were."

"Dad, why do you want to look like Tom Jones?"

"You know Idols, the TV show? They're holding auditions today in Sandton and I thought I would, you know, give it a go. I've got heaps of talent and, well, no one was ever fired for impersonating Tom Jones."

"Dad, I don't know how to tell you this, but you're too old for Idols. Go look up the rules on the DStv website."

I was incredulous, but children know much more than we grown-ups do about the really important things in life, like smartphones and reality TV talent shows, so I had a look on the internet. The little blighter was right. There it was in black and white: you can't enter Idols if you're over the ripe old age of 30.

What, I fumed, was this blatant ageism? Surely our constitution forbade this sort of thing? I had to move fast (Idols registration closed at 4pm on Saturday), but when I phoned the Human Rights Commission I got a recorded message telling me that me and my dire and unconscionable human rights abuses would just have to wait until 8am on Monday.

What got me hankering after pop stardom was a chat the Wednesday before last with Clive Bruce at the SAB Music Maestros gathering. Clive (in case you're young enough to qualify for DStv's Idols show) hosted one of the longest running TV music shows in South African history, Sing Country, in the 1980s.

Then he did a country Rewind show from 1993 to 1996. His first number one hit was in 1970. The man is a legend. When I spoke to him, he and Lance James were playing Vanderbijlpark the next Saturday. What I wondered, were the chances that the next so-called Idol would command any kind of an audience in the Vaal Triangle 40 years from now?

Oh, and I had the loveliest chinwag with Cindy and Glenda from Clout. The two hadn't seen eye to eye since - would you believe - 1977 but were hugging each other at the reunion after all those years. Do you have the slightest idea of how big Substitute was? All over Europe?

Feeling just a little dejected, on Saturday morning I took off my flared trousers and my curly wig; an unwanted codger cast aside by an uncaring world that values only beauty, youth and Apple products. When life kicks you in the balls, it helps to have a hot shower, even if it is the second one of the day.

So, for the neighbours' benefit, if not that of an adoring TV audience of millions, I sang The Green, Green Grass of Home before seguing straight into It's not Unusual. After soaking up an imagined tumult of applause (not to mention fending off a blizzard of tossed panties), I belted out Delilah. And then, because my imaginary audience was screaming for more, I did Delilah all over again.

The local music industry will have to stagger on without my input for now. But I have not lost hope. Apparently there is a very rich little pop moppet called Justin Bieber who became famous by posting videos of himself on Youtube. I might be a dinosaur but even I have a Youtube account so, talent scouts, start the bidding. The internet has democratised business to the point that, if you're good enough, it is but a hop, skip and a pelvic thrust from Youtube to FNB Stadium and the Billboard Hot 100.

Who needs Idols these days?