There’s no sense in playing modest anymore, North Carolina has dominated ‘American Idol’. This season is no exception. With three of the remaining contestants being NC natives and all three having discernible chances to crack the top five, I’m sucked in. I’m just too easy. I couldn’t help but get swept up by the southern charm and overdone innocence of the adorable Kellie Pickler. I don’t know if a human being has ever been too cute, but she’s as close as it gets. I want to mock her for overdoing it but I just can’t. She’s hooked me along with millions of other emotionally shallow weaklings looking for anything wholesome to get behind.

This week, I decided to support her at the core. One of my poker buddies, Buff, mentioned rather matter-of-factly that the bar he owned happened to be the headquarters for the Kellie Pickler fan base. Now, at a poker table, this doesn’t normally garner much respect from an otherwise despondent group of people. But if one of those people happens to be Brian Moran, professional reality columnist, AKA the most pathetic human being alive, that declaration touches off a maelstrom of potent questions.

Sure enough, after some mild internet research, all resources pointed to JD Shuckers in downtown Abemarle as the capital of Kellie Picker country. Buckets of seafood, hundreds of reality enthusiasts and some cold beer only 75 minutes away? Oh yeah, I’m there. The research proved worthy as the street out front was blocked off with radio and TV stations casing the sidewalk to broadcast live from Kellie Pickler country. “Pick Pickler” and “Naughty Little Minx” shirts are for sale and kids are sporting them about the bar.

A little background on Buff: He doesn’t say much. Quite honestly, he doesn’t say anything. He’s a tough guy to get a read on. He seems a little touchy about the 75 minute commute jokes. (i.e. “I’ll keep an eye on e-Savers, maybe we’ll come visit sometime.”) I’m not even sure he likes me. Quite honestly, I don’t know if he likes anybody. Except Patrick. Patrick has only one eye due to a series of basketball injuries and we call him the Cyclops. That’s neither here nor there but Buff laughs at everything he says. And to a lesser extent, Buff seems to like Lindsey, his girlfriend. She works at Shuckers and tonight, she’s our waitress, “Isn’t this crazy? People started showing up at 4:30 for a table today. You think this is bad; two weeks ago there were over 400 people here. ”

In true Pickler fashion, Buff suggests the sal-mon. “The grouper outsells it but believe me, the salmon is solid.” I decide on the Beach Party, a seafood mix of peel & eat shrimp, steamed oysters and succulent crab legs.

As 8:00 drew near, the impatient crowd started to murmur and a cheer erupted in the first frame. During the introductions, the crowd reacted to every entrant hoping it was Kellie. Finally from Seacrest, “Kellllll-eeeeee Picckler.” A huge eruption of applause buried Ace’s intro and I’m officially enjoying myself. The misses is just as energized and totally over the car ride, “I want to be out of here by 8:30.”

The degree of difficulty of last week’s assignment was unreasonable to say the least. “Alright, gang, this week we’re doing only Stevie Wonder songs” is the intricacy equivalent of “Alright, gang, this week we’re doing the songs in Sanskrit.” It was the worst episode by far. Things look to bounce back this week with a much broader subset of songs to chose from, the Fifties. Barry Manilow steps in as mentor.

Mandeesa kicks off the proceedings with a decent performance that concludes to a lackluster response from the bar. Randy liked it much better than Shuckers, “Y’all gotta bring it tonight.’

Carolinas own Bucky came out to “Oh Boy.” The bar started tapping their feet to the excellent song choice but it was dry and forgettable. Simon let him know with another tired simile. He took it well and NC is a disappointing 0 for 1. Speaking of disappointing, Paula doesn’t seem to be under the influence of any impairing substances. To a sarcastic reality columnist, that’s crippling.

Paris was rock solid as usual and a shoo-in for the top three.

Carolinas shoo-in went next when Chris Daughtry sported an alternative version of “Walk the Line”, one of my wife’s favorite tunes. She was blown away as was the crowd and loving every second until she caught a glimpse of me eating crab legs when she began dry-heaving.

“Man that was good, huh?” I offer.

“Ummm, you have butter ALL over your face.”

After Katherine McPhee’s sexy effort, the misses set her final five, “Taylor, Paris, the Bald Guy, Elliott and either McPhee, Kellie or Ace grabbing the fifth spot. It could go to any of them.” She’s right and I think we’ll be looking at the strongest final five the show has ever seen.

As with Chris, the crowd gets absorbed with Taylor. They clapped along with his catchy rendition of “Not Fade Away”. My favorite, Kevin, came with “When I Fall in Love” which I think was our first dance at our wedding. It was either that or some Phantom of the Opera deal. Since I’m unsure, I don’t bring it up. I liked Kevin better when he was humble and quiet and looked scared to death. The more comfortable and confident he gets, the more interest I lose. Self-doubt and self-deprecation are two of the most likable facets a character can have and Kevin has lost the former and the latter is hanging on by a thread. After tonight’s effort, I’m a little worried though. A bottom three could slow him down.

Elliott was his dependable self despite a suspect song choice. I couldn’t even place it. Ryan satiated our increasingly impatient crowd, “After the break, Kellie’s got some Patsy Cline.” Woooh!

Despite the introductory cheers, you could hear a pin drop on her first note. Somebody yelped when she took her first breath but realized it didn’t go over well and zipped it. As the performance progressed, it became obvious she was killing it and the excitement built. A bomb went off when she concluded and didn’t stop for a minute.

The cheers continued through the judge's reviews. She handled her technical difficulties well and the crowd laughed at her innocent musings. She was persuasive and infectious.

Good job Pickler, the gang at Shuckers breathed a huge sigh of relief.

My wife, who has wanted to hit the hay all night, suddenly has a change of heart when she hears the word “Ace” so we decide to stay for one more. On the first bar of “Still of the night” my wife is salivating over the screen. True story: about a month ago, during poker one night, I suffered a bad beat that may or may not have resulted with a hole in the wall which may or may not have been put there by me. I spent the next day desperately trying to patch the hole. But it didn’t happen so I had to come clean to the misses. It was an awful phone call. I think I would rather have told her I had an affair and The Firm was blackmailing me with photos of the act. I kid you not, my wife was way more annoyed that I tried to fast forward through Ace that night then she was that we had to spackle and repaint the wall.

My take didn’t impress her, “I just don’t see it.”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause he’s got a full head of hair.” Cheap shot.

All-in-all I was impressed by the locale, the show and Pickler fever. As Pickler progresses, it's hard to imagine how big this thing could get. A top three would almost certainly draw the national cameras for shots of Kellie’s home turf. So if you’re into reality and Pickler, come on down to Shuckers. The misses gave me the “no mas” speech so you’ll probably see a guy typing by himself. Come on over and we’ll have an awkward conversation.

I speak for a lot of people when I say I hope Kellie rolls on. For Shuckers sake, for Buff’s sake and for Albermarle’s sake, her success could bring a lot of joy to a lot of people and they know that. The very second the show ended, cell phones were everywhere and I’m guessing only one number was being dialed. My prediction for tonight, she survives as Lisa gets sent home.