Running at Idol speed

Hell hath no fury like a woman driver impeded while rushing home to catch the Singapore Idol results show.

Or so I discovered to my amusement, as her temper flared at fools who dared cross into her lane. Rarely is J's driving more aggressive than mine, but just five minutes to the start of the results show, every other vehicle on the road seemed to be crawling as we darted and dashed through the slow-car obstruction derby, muted curses flying from the driver's seat.

From the carpark lot to the elevator she rushed, skipping the usual mail-check side trip, shot through the front door and flung herself on the couch, just seconds before the idle finalists burst into song and bluster... for another fifty-odd minutes. I think I watched more commercials in that hour than in the whole of the past month.

In the end, the TV phenomenom notched up yet another franchise win, and the fans went wild; curtain call, exit stage left and prepare for encore. Every society needs heroes, and who better to exploit this maxim than reality show producers?