Anyone watching the Red Sox on NESN this summer has been seeing a whole lot of Taylor Hicks. Fresh from his American Idol win, Mr. Hicks has been hocking Fords in a snazzy new TV spot that has played several times per game. From what looks like the set of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” (which is sort of fitting), Hicks sings:

“I get what I want.
I go where I please.
And that works for me.
Possibilities.”

Not much of a jingle, really. It certainly isn’t catchy. Yet Hicks, God bless him, seems barely able to contain the passion inspired in him by this song. He shakes his finger to the beat. He shoves his face into the camera. He nearly goes down on his knees. And, after being interrupted several times by shots of gleaming Ford trucks in action, he is seen from afar, spinning with glee.

It’s difficult to figure out the intention of the dozen or so creatives that surely were behind this new campaign. Are they banking on the rising star power of Hicks, and wanting the consumer to purchase a Ford by association? In this case, are we meant to believe that the words are Hicks’ own? Hicks gets what he wants, goes where he pleases and, hey, that works for him? This would seem to confirm that the simple, southern boy in Hicks is gone for good. But it also begs the question: Do the words “Ford truck” really make anyone think of Taylor Hicks? Do Ford drivers even know who this Joe Cocker/Richard Gere mash-up is?

The other, more likely, alternative is that Hicks is singing for the modern Ford driver. He is singing their new anthem. People who drive Fords get what they want, go where they please, and to hell with y’all because “that works for me.”

Neither of these scenarios is very flattering to the prospective Ford owner. Either they are selfish and oblivious themselves, or they are inspired to spend 30,000 bucks by someone who is. The ad will be boring and meaningless to anyone not familiar with “American Idol” (as my father put it: “Man, that guy’s irritating”). And for those of us who, unfortunately, are, it leaves one with the feeling that the show is nothing but a classified ad for a soulless pitchman.

Hicks has circled that ad in red Sharpie. He’ll sell Fords all summer and, as his debut album hits shelves, he’ll travel the world promoting a product called “American Idol Taylor Hicks.” He’ll perhaps move onto singing for the Men’s Wearhouse by fall, and will, one day, prove the power of Just For Men by eliminating his trademark gray as his career goes the way of Spuds Mackenzie. True, the dollar bills dripping from his purple blazer make him more an idol for most Americans than his harmonica playing, but those who saw his awkward, endearing audition last fall and never imagined Hicks could actually win the competition may have a hard time chanting “Cash Patrol, Cash Patrol, Cash Patrol” in support.