I discovered American Idol halfway through season seven, with a glimpse of David Archuleta caught while channel-surfing, and it rocked my world. Skepticism, dismay, even pity clouded faces when I explained my newfound love to friends and family—highbrow-types all. I found solace only in the likeminded connoisseurship of cyberspace.

I joined my first chat room (Rickey.org!), selected my first Web name, downloaded my first iTunes, burned my first disk. "How many disks did you burn today, Mama?" my five-year-old would ask, as if inquiring about the weather. Tuesdays became the highlight of each week, and the seven-day wait for a new episode felt like a month. Never had I become so emotionally involved with personalities on a screen.

So I arrived at Rupp Arena for my first ever American Idol concert. My husband, citing his vow "for better and for worse," accompanied me. My odyssey actually began the night before, at the Lexington Airport, because I’d read on FanBlast that David was “flying into Kentucky” that night. Hoping for a rare moment of access, I checked arrivals from New York and spent about an hour at the airport, thinking, “Either I’m the saviest fan in all of Kentucky or I’m the most clueless!” Turns out I was the latter, but it was still fun watching each new cluster of passengers descend the escalator into view, thinking, “Those could be his shoes!”

The next afternoon I headed to the arena for the autograph-signing, where I was able to see Kristy Lee Cook (SO beautiful), Carly Smithson, and Archuleta, who seemed vastly larger than life, with that oft-reported other-worldly glow. I don’t think I’ve ever been in the presence of such star power. Very hard to believe that one year ago he was just a Murray High sophomore, though less so when you recall those videos of the 8th-grade Archie singing “I’ll Be” in his school auditorium, giggling through much of it, and the frenzied teen audience shrieking nonetheless. Even they could sense the presence of greatness.

But best of all, at the signing I was able to meet other Archuleta fans of similar age and intensity, especially Jenny and Becky from FansofDavid. As our favorite contestant progressed towards us down the barricaded throng, I discovered a fan’s greatest challenge: juggling so much stuff! Camera, gift, glossy photo for autograph, pen, nerves, and prepared speech. When my moment arrived, I could manage only two of these: I presented a gift “to help you keep reading all our letters!” (a letter opener engraved with “Idols in Kentucky 8.16.08”), and my speech, in which I avowed the support of older fans during these necessary teen-pop vicissitudes and our patience in awaiting the emergence of a mature artist. Or at least that was the feeling behind whatever I actually stammered. My reward was complete eye contact with David and his full-throttle sincerity as he said more than once, “Ah, gosh, thanks!” [Jenny and Becky have promised a video of this interaction, but it’s not uploaded yet.]

The concert itself was a bit of a denoument, with some wearying performances but also plenty of great ones from Archie, Brook, Jason, Syesha, and certainly David Cook. Brook has nearly the same “glorious aura” that Paula once identified in David (after “Smokey Mountain Memories"). Maybe it’s a Mormon thing, and in fact I’ve logged on to LDS.org more than once this season, looking for answers to that and other questions. Syesha was extraordinary, and during her down-tempo “If I Ain’t Got You,” I was embracing my husband with tears streaming down my face (so I knew I’d be a wreck when the next performer appeared). I think Syesha's tone is almost as gorgeous as Archie’s, and her performance with Seal was my favorite of the whole TV finale. She was at such a disadvantage on the personality-driven Idol, because that’s not her strong suit, but her talent seems limitless. I was predisposed to dislike Jason's "Crazy," feeling that he'd usurped our David's rightful song, but actually Jason's version was fabulous--this dude has way more talent than I gave him credit for.

Cook is a consumate performer whose ease in establishing a rollicking and festive connection to his audience is a delight to behold. (There seemed to be many more Cook fans there than Archie fans). Cook reveled in the absurdity of a bizarre fan placard that said, “Free the Gnomes,” which he read aloud into the microphone and later, after the final group number, took possession of while descending beneath the stage. (A stage hand later returned it the fan.)

And despite the countless times that I’ve YouTubed Archie’s four songs, it was still thrilling to hear them live. I had been a little disappointed in his choice of a Josh Groban number, but like many before me, I must confess that “When You Say You Love Me” was absolute heaven.

So, my fellow Rickey denizens, I apologize for the absence of photos and videos, but it was definitely good timing for me to deliver this report late in the tour, after every visual has already been well documented, because I’m not great with technology, and it’s much more fun to just write my impressions. Hope you enjoyed reading!