Seacrest is the announcer on Idol. He should get paid Nick Cannon money, right? Besides, if the last couple of years have proved anything, it's that the Idol Monster Truck rolls on no matter who is jettisoned from the front seat. No Simon? No problem.
That's what those bean-counters would have you believe, anyway. A closer look at the situation reveals just how flimsy their logic is.
Sure, hosting Idol is both part-time and seasonal, so you could probably find someone desperate enough to do the job for $2 million or $3 million a year. But would that person be willing to go the extra mile the way Seacrest does?
When you think about it, his duties don't really begin until the elimination rounds in Hollywood, yet Seacrest, of his own volition, goes out to all the audition cities.
He's the one who draws out the wacky schizophrenic contestants, the hard-luck stories that are sadder than a country song, and those incorrigible old codgers who show up to sing even though the age cutoff is like 25.
Seacrest's the one who waits outside the door after the audition to see if those people who caught our eye are going on or going home. And he does it all because he cares. Well, that and the off chance he might get picked up by some obese grandmother from Oklahoma and shaken like a rag doll.
Think Seacrest would be easy to replace? You'd want someone under the age of 40. That cuts out a big section of the population right there. Snowy dentition and good posture. The latter takes on importance because the height maximum for host has been capped by fiat at a robust 5-foot-2.
