I didn’t watch The Show at all last year — not even the final episode. I was kind of burned out, one year after watching my fellow Fighting Mule and his Les Paul make it all the way through. I couldn’t even tell you who won last year — we’ve all heard the No. 2 guy sing, but you could perp-walk the winner past me and I’d never know it.

And I thought that would be it for me, but I caught the first show of the season this year and I’ve been yanked right back in.

First, I’ve really enjoyed the absence of The Cheerleader. She was always good for comic relief but her act played thin and I kind of felt sorry for her after a while. Her replacement isn’t showing up until after the next round of Darwinian antics, and I’m not sure I can stomach week after week of her perkiness, but the current main players work just fine for me.

Second, in the early weeks of The Show, they’ve cut down the freak factor that always made me squirm. Humiliation is not entertainment to me, and although I did enjoy watching one contestant get cuffed and carried out this year, the cruel edge was always the thing I liked least about the early shows. There still has been a parade of the clueless, but it’s been noticeably more measured.

So it looks like I could be back on board for another year, unless the Replacement Cheerleader sends me into insulin shock and I am forced to withdraw. It’s always possible.