. . . but I doubt it.

I spoke too soon. Last night's two-hour episode of "America's Got Talent" was much worse than what I remembered from last year. I suppose I should have taken a hint from the grammatically clumsy title. How much nicer "America Has Talent" would be.

Three or four acts with some degree of talent were sandwiched in among a plethora of people whom the judges gave the hook long before they were finished. I imagine I could walk down the street and find more talent than many of them exhibited. Apparently, there is no rehearsal, or the producer is just really mean, and he thinks we are too.

I don't usually dislike Jerry Springer, the host, but this year he has decided to talk to the contestants before, after, and even DURING their performances. "Good job," and "wow," yelled from the wings are inappropriate. After a long montage of clips from inept magicians, they gave us the Pendragons, a married couple who have been successful for thirty years. He has been recuperating for a while from a rehearsal accident with an arrow. Although we all know how it's done, they executed the switch-people-in-the-box illusion flawlessly. If nothing else, they are ready to go back to work.

The best act of the evening was a pleasant young singer, whom the judges likened to Billy Joel, but who sounded like Springsteen to me. But then, it's not my kind of music, so it could actually have been his own style, for all I know, (insert title).