IDOL CHATTER: Hail to the...Bucky?

You know who Bucky Covington reminds me of -- besides Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel? George W. Bush. He's convinced he's doing a great job primarily because large chunks of the Southern United States keep voting for him. He has a goofy grin and, despite his Dixie bona fides, looks ridiculous in a cowboy hat. Plus he's a dumb-lucky son of a gun. Next week on Idol is COUNTRY NIGHT. That means Bucky and fellow huckleberry Kellie Pickler cruise through. **** Where does Ace Young keep getting all those "ace" belt buckles? Seriously, you'd think he'd run out by now. **** Paris cries more than Tammy Faye Baker. When she gets voted out, Seacrest is gonna need an ark. **** I picked Mandisa early -- and I'm picking her late. Big Mama is looking better and better. Seriously, last night Kat McPhee looked like she was gonna pull a "Carrie" (as in the horror movie, not Underwood). Plus Daughtry is starting to lose luster. That performance on Tuesday was a dud. Creed, dude? Even Scott Stapp was wincing at your song choice.

****

So let's lock this down: Who's your Idol horse? Who you gonna ride to the finish line?

Best Rock Flick Ever?

Don't Look Back? The Last Waltz? Purple Rain?

Rock 'N' Roll High School? (Surely we have some filthy P.J. Soles fans in this crew.) Stop Making Sense? Heavy Metal?

Saw a press screening yesterday of Neil Young: Heart of Gold, the mesmerizing new concert flick by Jonathan Demme, a guy who knows a thing or two about music in movies and movies about music. It's good stuff, a cleverly crafted film that'll work for both Neil Young fans and, say, my mother, strictly a Neil Diamond fan.

Anyway, made me start thinking about other classic concert and rock movies. It also made me start thinking about Appollonia.

So let's hear it: What's your favorite rock movie?

School of Rock? Spinal Tap? Rocky Horror?

Xanadu? A Hard Day's Night? Jailhouse Rock?

Clambake?

Fridays With Zimmer

So I spent Friday hanging with the Devil Rays, asking the ballplayers how they choose their at-bat/jog to the mound songs and what's on their iPod.

Almost everyone has an iPod in the clubhouse -- the days of cranking the clubhouse stereo seems to have given way to the boys of summer popping in their iPod ear buds and rocking out on their own.

Everyone was pretty cool (well, almost everyone, but I'll keep that to myself). My feature should run on April 10 -- opening day in Tampa Bay -- but I will allow that Carl Crawford is torn between Juvenile and Young Jeezy for his at-bat song. Stay tuned...

Anyway, just before batting practice, Times baseball guru Marc Topkin introduces me to THE Don Zimmer, an honorary bench coach/Yoda these days for the Rays. Now, let me say this: I don't get star-struck much, but staring into the 75-year-old Zim's adorable gerbil face and shaking his hand left me speechless. When I was a wee lad growing up in Boston, I used to boo the crap out of Zimmer, then the skipper of the Red Sox. Now the circle of life is complete.

I'll save our conversation for the story, but I did jokingly asked him what's on his iPod. Zimmer's response:

"iPod?! I don't even know how to spell iPod!"

I just wanted to hug him.

Drop Dead Freds?

Be honest... Who looks more like Fred Flintstone? Me or this guy? This is Charley Belcher, a lovable "Fox Personality" who was also on Tuesday's Your Turn show with me and fallen American Idol singer Melissa McGhee. I imagine the people who tuned in were wondering if this was in fact a Maury-esque program about husky Bedrockian twins battling over the same woman. Come to think of it, maybe it was. ***** You say it's your birthday? It's my birthday, too. Yesterday actually. 36 if you're counting. Anyway, the Forever Fiancee and the Kid took me to Busch Gardens for the day. That night, our fave neighbors shuttled us down to St. Pete Beach for shrimp and tequila shots and related revelry. Around 9:15, we had the bartender turn on American Idol. I gotta tell you: That show is vastly improved with the sound off. Good to see Kevin go -- although I guess I'd rather hear him sing than Bucky, who must be the least-talented Idolist to make it this far in any season. Right now, they're building a theater for him in Branson. ***** As we were leaving the establishment, a smoke-damaged barfly waved her Newport around and exclaimed: "I'll tell you who's next to go: Ace. He's hot, but the boy can't sing a lick." Take it to the bank.