My mother still teases me over the fact that at the age of 2, I’d be singing the chorus of Air Supply’s “The One That You Love.” It’s embarrassing in retrospect, for so many reasons, but thankfully this offense predated YouTube footage.

Despite that lapse in judgment, I’ve never stopped singing. I sang in almost every chorus possible as a student in the Eastchester school district. Within weeks of being dropped off at Boston College, I joined an a cappella group, the Acoustics. And two years after I graduated from BC, two of my friends and I created a semi-pro New York City vocal band called Unsung Heroes, with whom I continue to perform today.

The first time I’d ever seen “American Idol” was just for the last few minutes of Season 1, when Kelly Clarkson was announced as the winner. Ever since, people who know that I both sing and watch the show have asked why I—a guy in his 20’s known for carrying tunes—never auditioned or would consider auditioning for the nation’s top-rated show.

There are many reasons, actually. I’ll break them down into seven categories.

1. As a vocalist, I think I’m good, but not good enough. I’ve often told people that if there were a New York State Regents Examination for singing, I’d barely pass with a 65 or 70. Depending on the draw, I think I might even be good enough to beat out a few of the stragglers who make the Top 24, but as harsh as I can be on the Amanda Overmyers and Sanjaya Malakars of the world, I can’t pretend I’d be much better on a weekly basis. Also, if you’re going to audition, you should be reasonably certain you’d not only win the competition but also could sell millions of albums to appease viewers, radio listeners, judges, producers and record executives. I certainly wouldn’t buy a full album of my own songs.

2. All those negative things I’ve written about contestants. When I first asked to join the Remote Access team to cover “American Idol,” I realized that would end all of my intentions to try out for the show. In a weird way, the blog might have helped me land a spot in the Top 24, because producers probably would have salivated at the human-interest angle of “Here’s a guy who blogs ‘American Idol’ at work … and now he’s on it!” But that would prove to be a liability in the long run, with all of those negative things I wrote about my least favorite contestants—and even some of the best ones—coming back to haunt me in my own quest for the title. As a result, I’d be one of the most vilified contestants in show history.

3. Success is sweet, but failure is magnified. Think about it: All missed notes, flat jokes, bizarre clothes and questionable song choices are subjected to the largest weekly viewing audience on television. That’s some 30 million of your not-necessarily-best-friends picking apart every last detail. Oh, and YouTube is there to remind the world of what you did wrong, too. Even the winners are subjected to YouTube videos of unflattering performances. No, thanks.

4. I’d crack up. And not in a way that the judges or I would find funny. As a baritone/bass, I have a limited vocal range with a chest-voice that often tops out at an unimpressive middle-F. After that, if I’m some combination of lucky, healthy and/or confident, I can belt higher notes or depend on my inconsistent falsetto, which sounds fine on the lower end but screechy at the top. If I tried to belt about 90 percent of rock or pop songs sung by tenors, I’d be cracking on every note. And there would never be enough “dreadfuls” for Simon Cowell to muster.

5. I’m one-note. My vocal style is best suited for rock songs sung in baritones’ lower registers. This is why I feel comfortable soloing on Stone Temple Pilots’ “Interstate Love Song” but cannot maintain credibility on most ballads. As a change of pace in college, I sang “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak and “Ain’t No Sunshine” by Bill Withers, but my takes on those songs these days could be construed as boring by judges and viewers alike.

6. It’s not really about the music. Even if my vocals were much better than they are, the show’s not really about the quality of one’s voice. Producers who help the judges pick the Top 24 are looking for the total package, someone who’s marketable, young, reasonably good-looking, charming and tells an interesting story about themselves. That last part is what four very talented, marketable, attractive, charming friends of mine told me was one of the main reasons they felt they didn’t even make it into the judges’ room at the Philadelphia auditions this year. Interesting backstories, they said, granted the chosen contestants that access. Talent, it turned out, was secondary at best.

7. “Reality” TV ain’t that real. Even on reality shows that seem to favor talent over drama (recent seasons of Bravo’s “Project Runway” and “Top Chef” come to mind), producers and editors have to keep the show interesting. So if that means giving more attention to some contestants over others or, worse, manipulating footage to make contestants seem more or less likable, it’s not exactly a level playing field. I doubt I’d want to be chewed up by that kind of machine.

(Logo courtesy of Fox.)