Armed with a last-minute ticket to Las Vegas and “no place
to stay,” Ron Velasco’s journey to become an American
Idol began the same way it ended ““ up in the air.
At 6 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2004, Velasco, who is currently studying
recording engineering at UCLA Extension, patiently waited in line
with 5,000 aspiring idols in front of him and another 3,000
trailing. Eight hours later, Velasco left with a ticket to audition
the next day.
At 9 a.m. on Sunday morning, auditions started. Velasco, along
with all the other eager contestants awaiting their fateful
audition, sat in an auditorium and watched rows of contestants file
down, with groups of four being sent to each judge sitting behind a
table.
“People (were) getting cut left and right. A few lucky
ones (made) it through,” said Velasco.
But it was not at the hands of Simon Cowell.
Before wannabe Idols get to see the infamous Brit in person,
they have to get past that day’s judges and also impress the
executive producers who give their “yea” or
“nay” in the second round of auditions.
“(I was thinking) if I hear Whitney Houston or Alicia Keys
one more time I’m gonna scream,” he said about the rest
of his competition.
Velasco went out of his way to pick a unique piece ““
“Babe” by Styx (an ’80s ballad) ““ among all
the soulful diva songs and said he was relieved when he
didn’t hear anyone else humming the same tune.
“It was odd because one of the guys I had been hanging out
with, he tried to psych me out, actually, on the day of the
audition. He seemed nice until I told him (what song I was
singing), and then he started practicing it right in front of me,
saying he might sing that song too,” Velasco said.
A lover of music, but professional by no means, Velasco has done
some open mic nights in Los Angeles and Salt Lake City, and has
used karaoke contests and choirs at the University of Texas (where
he went for his undergraduate degree) and UCLA to satiate his
passion. He also took voice lessons before the Idol auditions.
When it was finally his turn to sing, Velasco stood in front of
a table and lined up with three other people in front of one person
holding fate at his fingertips. The judge pointed to each
contestant in turn to do their thing.
“The first girl goes and sings Alanis Morissette. Then the
next girl goes, and then the next girl. Finally, it’s my
turn. I ask the judge if I can sing barefoot. It helps me get
grounded. The judge says I could take off my trousers for all he
cares. I don’t oblige,” Velasco said.
“So I sing “˜Babe’ by Styx. I don’t get
nervous. In fact, I think I sound pretty good. He stops me after
the first verse. I didn’t get to sing the chorus.”
The judge called the four of them up to the table.
“He (said) my performance was good, but more for stage.
None of us get through,” Velasco said.
Their wristbands are cut, the symbolic ending to their
unsuccessful journey in “the tribe has spoken”
fashion.
“Each judge has what they have in mind. That’s
what’s frustrating. It’s very random. You could hit
whatever that person is looking for at this table, but if you were
at the next judge, they wouldn’t like it because maybe they
already picked someone like you. It’s very hard,”
Velasco said.
Velasco said more than anything he learned from Las Vegas was
that even if you’re good, you still have to stand out in some
way if you want to make it on the show.
Most prominently, he noticed that a lot of people were getting
through that had some sort of costume or some sort of gimmick.
Naturally he used his new insight when he took a second chance.
Early on Oct. 5, Velasco met up with eight people he met on the
“American Idol” online message boards. Because they
were all auditioning in San Francisco, they decided to meet there.
In front of Cow Palace in Daly City, they each donned blue
feathered boas, calling themselves “The Boas.”
When the camera came around and asked them about their blue
paraphernalia, they told them the story of how they met.
“This one guy said, “˜Hey, too bad those boas
aren’t red. I’d have you guys do a Coca-Cola
commercial,'” said Velasco.
Ultimately Velasco didn’t hit it big in San Francisco
either. They did, however, let him and his friends film the
Coca-Cola commercial despite the color of their boas, having him
and his eight friends sing a remake of an old Coke jingle
“I’d like to teach the world to sing.”
Perhaps one slight detail would have made the biggest
difference. But for Velasco, that lesson in luck seemed to sum up
his entire “American Idol” audition experience. In the
meantime, he’ll have to wait to see if his blue boa breakout
makes it to the final cut.
Next year, he plans to do research on the executive producers.
With a bit of luck, he’ll make it.
“Even though my music career may be in neutral, I’m
no longer idle,” Velasco said.