Once Again: Frenchie
American Idol semi-finalist, Frenchie Davis, was a popular contestant who promised to reign supreme beyond the short life span of post-reality tv celebrity. But before this millennium edition Aretha Franklin could "own" the show, the producers decided she should experience scandal before stepping into the world of legitimized fame.

When this financially struggling contestant was canned for posing for naughty websites to help pay for college, the forming legion of Frenchie fans were shocked to know that they wouldn't be experiencing her on American Idol anymore. I guess the fans were mostly composed of nerds--there's no other reason for the great wave of protest flooding the Internet in the form of fan pages, forums, and online petitions.

The Question
Not that I'm not patriotic, but I'm not an American Idol fan. I wondered what made Frenchie Davis so great. She's not a model, nor a WB sitcom star. She hasn't made any movies, and she didn't kill anyone famous either. I wondered if I could obtain any insight on her supposed majesty. Like maybe from a source in little sister form.

My little sister auditioned for this season's American Idol and was rejected right before the televised round that headed to Los Angeles. And on the drive back home from NYC, she told me about this big black girl who had a good chance of being the next American Idol.

The Following is All About Me (Describing Frenchie [According to My Sister])

The First Impression
Her first Frenchie experience was when contestants were separated into groups of seven and taken to the bathrooms for a break. She was in front of Kid Sister, who already noted the presence and charisma Frenchie had. She also noted her going to the men's room when she couldn't wait in the women's bathroom line.

The Social Characteristic
Wherever Frenchie was, there was always some sort of social draw. She was the person everyone wanted to be around, although she tended to interact more with outgoing blacks. What got her to the contest was the funding her friends from hometown Washington D.C. gathered for her travel (I guess a bus got her there, too), but it was also the obvious spunk and attitude she had despite her large figure.

"...that's why I'm doing this," Frenchie once quipped, "because I'm not a hundred pounds like everyone else." My sister weighed about that much.

By Her First Few Notes
Contestants stayed in the "quiet room" while they waited for their turn to audition down the hall. Everyone's nervous banter died when Frenchie's first performance was heard. Most people didn't know who was singing at the time, and when the question circled around the room, Kid Sister answered, "I think that's Frenchie..."

"Who's Frenchie?" was the next question. And after a quick and easy description, everyone knew exactly who she was and were supposedly astonished by the talent that matched her astounding personality. Sure it was the Quiet Room, but by the time Frenchie finished her song, everyone cheered. Then they were hushed to be quiet. And then a homeless man defecated somewhere on Wall Street. Which is unrelated.

By Her First Pre-Celebrity Drama
My sister was still in the contest and, like everyone else, took part in the three hour wait for the next round. Everyone was tired, nervous, and anxious. Most of them looked to Frenchie for entertainment, who happened to be arguing across the room with another contestant named Terrel.

Not only did he also have this magic touch of presence, but he was also pro-Whitney Houston to Frenchie's anti-Houston stance. Their live and heated argument turned into a "Terrel's Whitney Houston versus Frenchie's Patti Labelle" battle. But even toward the end of their verbal scuffle, Terrel admitted Frenchie would make the next couple rounds. You know you're good when competition flatters you. Especially when you're enemy wants to sleep with you. Not that Terrel wanted to sleep with Frenchie. Not that a homeless man unrelatedly defecated on Wall Street either.

By Her Second Audition
Within a group of ten my sister saw Terrel seat himself closer to the source of Frenchie's next audition. He compassionately swooned to the notes that bellowed from down the hall and like a standard procedure, everyone unlawfully cheered by the end of her song. She walked into the Quiet Room proclaiming her invitation to the next round in Los Angeles and strutted off into an imaginary sunset without any goodbyes.

Terrel was the only one in that group that made it to L.A., where--on TV--the judges told him he had the voice, but not the look, and was compared to Lutherr Vandross. And the person who defecated on Wall Street wasn't a homeless man. It was me.

By the Final Subheading
In a world where the media helps shape the visage of ideal women, people may wonder why there's an attraction to Ms. Davis. I guess she's like what people say about strange drugs and taboo sex positions: "don't knock it till you try it."

The full magnitude of her talented greatness can only be felt in person.