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That Christian Siriano dude from “Project Runway” has nothing on Joan Jett in the fierce department.

The ageless singer/guitarist and her Blackhearts landed in Richmond yesterday for the Cinco de Mayo fest on Brown’s Island – a strange pairing given the number of toddlers placed on shoulders and the very adult nature of some of Jett’s songs (not that a 6-year-old would understand “Fetish” or her current cover of Sweet’s “A.C.D.C.,” but still…).

Jett’s set began about 30 minutes late due to an airline issue (apparently her flight from Atlanta was delayed when the aircraft was struck by lightning – presumably on the ground).

Her eventual appearance was all-the-more welcomed considering fans had been waiting more than an hour since the last musical act, Evans Blue, left the stage (the silence was actually an improvement over the Canadian screamo band, which was the musical equivalent of the CRX train rumbling above—except less melodic).

But Jett produced exactly what fans of her three decades of hits could have wanted.

Last June, Richmond artist Noah Scalin came up with an, er, different idea: create a skull design for each of the next 365 days. (Or 366, possibly, given the Leap Year.) The result? http://www.skulladay.com

Now Noah’s Web site has been nominated for a Webby Award. The Webbys, dubbed by The New York Times as the Oscars of the Internet, attracted 10,000 entries from over 60 countries this year. Not bad.

At any rate, Skull-a-Day was one of five noms in the best personal Web site category. Winners will be announced on Tuesday. In the meantime, if you’re interested, check it out. Who knew you could find inspiration for skulls in so many media?

Or you can be part of the Webby People’s Voice Awards—a separate award, one per category—by voting for your favorites at http://pv.webbyawards.com—but do it soon, the deadline is tomorrow (May 1).

Oh, Paula. And to think, you were so present, so lucid, so…sensible almost, this season.

“This is officially the strangest show we’ve ever done,” said the ever-observant Simon Cowell at the end of last night’s “Idol.

And man, he wasn’t kidding.

As soon as Ryan Seacrest announced that this week’s judging would be done differently – with the threesome presenting their critiques at the end of the first round of Neil Diamond songs – I instantly hated the idea and also subconsciously knew that somehow, this would not end well.

So what was Paula talking about when she rambled on to Jason Castro about his first song and then continued to talk…about his second song? Which he hadn’t performed yet.

Was she reading the notes she had ostensibly jotted down about David Cook, who was next to Jason in the evaluation line, or were those notes really about Jason taken during…dress rehearsal, perhaps?

I swear I’ve read that the judges often attend dress rehearsal and would also swear that Simon has commented to a contestant that he/she sounded better during that rehearsal. But others – who usually know about this sort of thing – promise me that no such practice exists and there are stand-ins at the judges table during rehearsal.

So…you decide. I’m going with Paula taking notes at dress rehearsal. I mean, c’mon, she thought Jason had already sung his second song? Even JASON isn’t that ditzy.

I’ve also decided this week that if “Idol” can modify its judging policy for the night, I can change the style of my recap.

So, in tribute to the time and depth given by Randy, Paula and Simon last night, here’s what we learned during Neil Diamond week – other than it’s really tough to sing Neil Diamond songs if you aren’t Neil Diamond.

So herOrbit.com, a women’s social network, asked 5,000 women which celebrity guys’ features they’d use to create the ultimate fantasy man. The results are ... scary.

The winners were:
* Hair—Patrick Dempsey
* Eyes—Jake Gyllenhaal
* Nose—Owen Wilson (interesting choice! It takes a certain kind of man—like Owen Wilson—to handle this nose.)
* Mouth—Brad Pitt
* Jaw line— Johnny Depp

Herorbit.com’s conclusion after Photoshopping the results? That most girls just want an average man. (Of course, most girls hadn’t yet seen this photo.)

“Sure, women go crazy when they see Brad Pitt, but the truth is they want the person who delivers their mail, packs their groceries and coaches their kids’ softball team,“ said Nadine Reeves, the Web site’s marketing director.

OK. But who knew Jake G. had such massive eyebrows? And whose facial hair is that? And why couldn’t they just have saved time and used Patrick Dempsey’s whole face? Inquiring minds ...

A mere five days ago, I was worried how Miley Cyrus, at the tender age of 15, was going to produce her memoirs.

That was then, and this is now. Forget the memoirs, l’il Miley has much bigger fish to fry. In February, she was photographed half-nekkid (as “they” say) by photog-to-the-stars Annie Leibovitz for the June issue of Vanity Fair.

Well, the June issue is about to hit the newsstands and the, er, trash has hit the fan. And the fans are not amused. So young Miley has done what every child-star-gone-grown-up-too-soon has done: issued an abject apology wherein she “never intended for any of this to happen.“ (As Melissa says, incredulously, “What did she THINK Annie was shooting when she took her shirt off and wrapped herself in a sheet?!“)

“Most of all,“ Miley says in a statement, “I have let myself down. I will learn from my mistakes and trust my support team. My family and my faith will guide me through my life’s journey.“

Ahem. This brings us to Part II of Miley-gate, the part where the girl’s parents, Billy Ray and Tish Cyrus, were there for most of the shoot. They didn’t see the final shot, apparently—whichever the final shot was—but her grandmother and teacher were there for that. So ... no excuses. Her support team, clearly, wasn’t using good judgment. Unless they lived under a rock, they knew Leibovitz would push the envelope and that “artistic” doesn’t always mean “clothed.“

Which brings up to Part III. Have you seen the photos of Miley and her dad together? They’re all over youtube.com, Vanity Fair’s Web site, etc. And don’t tell me that 46-year-old Billy Ray Cyrus, who’s been around the block a few times, didn’t know exactly what impression the photos would give where he’s wrapped around his daughter like a dude on a beach date.

It’s all too sad. The kid has her own TV show, sold out a concert tour and has multiplatinum albums. Miley-gate could go either way: garner her a ton of priceless noteriety or mess with her rep as a rising young star. In today’s climate, I’d guess it will be the former.

Fans get ticked, Miley apologizes, Disney—oh, yeah, this is funny,  Disney arises in righteous indignation, saying V.F. is taking advantage of Miley (Disney’s own little cash calf). The whole thing blows over, people think it’s a joke and the next thing you know, she’s wearing torn fishnets a la Britney and hooked on, well, caffeine at least.

Yeah, I’m painting a pretty dark picture. I’m sure most folks will think I’m being harsh, that it’s all just part of the celebrity process. But I keep hoping some child star will remain unscathed till ... I dunno ... is 21 too much to ask?

At this point, the only one who comes to mind is Raven Symone, who for my money is still a down-to-earth young woman who doesn’t feel compelled to go the “artistic” route. 

Miley will probably be OK. But her parents need to take a long look in the mirror.

You know, I thought Jason Ca-“rasta”-ro (apologies to Bob Marley!) was pretty cute when the new season of “American Idol” began. Big smile, baby blues, cool hair, etc.

Now, for my money, he just looks kinda vacant. Forget how he sounds, I’m being superficial.

Sad when that happens, though—a possible up-and-comer is visually mesmerizing, and then he’s not much more than a yawn.

Same thing happened with Ace Young on TSOE (The Season of Elliott). Here was this really good-looking dude—then a few weeks in, I had a hard time looking my TV in the eye when Ace was making love to the camera. I began to cringe every time he tossed his head so the hair would fall just so.

I got over Ace about a week before my 15-year-old niece “dropped” him, too. She tried to hang on but just couldn’t deal.

Well, folks, I’m here to tell you I wuz WRONG. Sometimes ... sometimes ... TV lies. You’d think people would look their best, all dolled up for the camera. But sometimes all that makeup and hype does them a disservice.

How do I know? I met Ace Young at Claudette Yamin’s funeral. OK, he did have that going for him—he was nice enough to fly up from Atlanta in support of his friend—but I’m going with the superficial again.

In person, up close, Ace Young is one hot fella. Seriously. We met only because he was standing in the parking lot, talking to a couple of people, and I had to walk by him to get to my car. I was going to walk on by, but the journalist in me just couldn’t stand it. I stopped and told him I worked at a local newspaper.

Oh, sure, he whipped his shades off so fast, I’m surprised he didn’t get whiplash. But my gosh, was it ever worth the view. The man has such beautiful eyes—tell me if I’m gushing here—with little gold specks in them, and it was ALL I could do not to stare.

He’s also built—but you knew that—and his hair looked much better (even cleaner) in person. It’s a good thing I’m so old because I’m telling you it was all I could do not to ... well, you get my drift. Ace Young is one extremely attractive man. 

In case you don’t remember Ace, I’m dropping in a photo for reference. It doesn’t do the man justice, though. I couldn’t find one that did.

After shoving my eyes back in their sockets, I asked what he was working on. He mentioned several projects, including his first single, “Addicted,“ which came out last week, and his album, “Ace Young,“ due for a July 15 release. He also mentioned having been at the Grammys, presumably hanging with Daughtry, with whom he co-wrote best rock song nominee “It’s Not Over.“ Then he most politely excused himself because he had to head for the graveside service.

Long live Claudette, by the way. Loved it when Elliott gave her a handwritten shout-out (literally!) when he recently performed on “Idol.“

More surprising than “Idol”’s best singer being shooed away at least two weeks too early?

The show itself running a full two minutes short. Gee, that was awkward, wasn’t it, Ryan?

But as much as it twisted my gut to see Carly Smithson sent back to tending bar in San Diego – and falling short of an “Idol” dream for the second time – I can’t say I was shocked.

In fact, in my recap from Tuesday’s Andrew Lloyd Webber show, I suggested that as potent a singer Carly is, she doesn’t have an obvious fan base, like Jason Castro apparently does.

So what did we learn last night?

Never underestimate the texting power of 14-year-old girls, who seem to be the only ones buying Jason’s one-note, albeit smooth, deliveries and finding his vapidity attractive.

But, before we knew that the Irish powerhouse would soon give her final, tearful smile (was that surprise or relief on her face?), she and her fellow bottom-two dweller, Syesha Mercado, ripped through their Tuesday night songs once again.

Carly’s “Superstar” from “Jesus Christ Superstar” smoked even more than the previous night (and, as she grinned to Simon at the end, she remembered the words) and Syesha may have earned herself an audition for Broadway’s “Xanadu” with another saucy run through “One Rock & Roll Too Many.”

And, by the way, nice tie-in to the ALW empire by showcasing the success that former “Idol”’s have found on the Great White Way, even if it meant a quick sound bite and album plug from a waxy-looking Clay Aiken.

Also padding out the show was the current love of Simon’s life, Leona Lewis, a recent winner of Britain’s “The X Factor” whose debut album (shepherded by Simon and the mighty Clive Davis) splashed in at No. 1 last week.

Ironic that she was knocked off that perch this week by Mariah Carey’s latest, since Leona is a Mariah aspirant, right down to the multi-octave voice and exotic beauty. Lewis’ performance
of her own hit, “Bleeding Love,” had Simon’s flat-top bobbing along, and aside from the mechanical backing tracks, sounded impressively live.

But it wasn’t Leona who provided the “wow” moment of the night. It was the second that Brooke White was pronounced safe for another week, despite her colossal goof on Tuesday.
As I suspected, the tenderhearted weeper obviously nabbed a ton of sympathy votes after forgetting the words to “You Must Love Me” and restarting the song.

Even a proud cynic (that would be me) could tell that Brooke’s gape-mouthed, frozen reaction to Ryan’s news was real. But with those teenyboppers sticking around to keep Jason from the Scare Zone, Brooke’s weeks are numbered, though next week for Neil Diamond night, she could surely knock out a beauty with a little “Heartlight” or “Hello Again,” something to turn everyone’s eyes dewy.

I’ll miss Carly potentially growling out “Love on the Rocks,” but how about moppet Davey Archuletta? Can he continue his string of bland, inspirational mid-tempo performances that prompts swooning from kiddies and grandmas alike? Betcha he goes for a Diamond-penned Monkees hit …”I’m a Believer,” anyone?

*Sigh.*

So Miley “Hannah Montana” Cyrus is writing her memoirs.

Yes, she’s 15. OK, I kept a diary when I was 15—and I realize I was just a run-of-the-mill teen—but c’mon, even with your own TV show, concert tour and kajillions of preteen fans, how much do you really have to say about your life thus far?

Ask Disney; it’s footing the bill.

Then we have poor, poor Star Jones, who after three years of wedded bliss is divorcing her husband, Al Reynolds.

I used to like Star ... until she used her wedding for personal gain, lied about her weight loss methods and got so full of herself she couldn’t ... well, you be the judge: In a statement to “Entertainment Tonight,“ she says, “Several years ago I made an error in judgment by inviting the media into the most intimate area of my life.“

Uh, duh, Star? Do ya think that announcing your divorce to TV’s highest-rated entertainment-news show might not qualify for—I dunno—INVITING THE MEDIA INTO THE MOST INTIMATE AREA OF YOUR LIFE? AGAIN?!! Have we learned nothing from the wedding debacle?

The best news of the day, for those who can’t get enough of the Fashion Police, is Yahoo’s new site, http://omg.yahoo.com/what-were-they-thinking/photos/1716.

I’ll drop one of the pics in as a sneak peek. This photo to the left, by Stephen Lovekin and courtesy of Getty Images, shows Crystal Gayle’s scary floor-length locks. Yes, that’s her actual hair wafting past her ankles. Seriously.

Gayle is probably best known for her late ‘70s hit, “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.“ Her over-the-top do makes my hazel eyes teary.

A sentence I never thought I’d utter:  I want my very own Andrew Lloyd Webber.

He doesn’t even have to be a Lord or a Baron or whatever poncey title usually precedes Webber’s name.

I just want a guy who looks like Austin Powers’ dad to follow me around all day and offer gentle encouragement and advice.

I do not, however, want him to say things like, “I don’t think she had a CLUE what she was singing about,” as he commented about Brooke White’s rehearsal of “You Must Love Me.”

Little did he know how literal that statement would become, but hey, let’s just say ALW is prescient, too!

But first, some background.

For ALW week, “Idol” flew the crew to The Venetian in Las Vegas, where, conveniently, a modified version of “Phantom of the Opera” is playing.

Well, if you had to spend part of your day explaining to a dreadlocked kid that a cat sang “Memory” in the production of “Cats,” well, then, sure, let the man plug his show in front of 29 million viewers.

Since we’re talking about Jason Castro, let me just say that when I tossed out the hypothetical last week of who might tackle the ginormous ballad, Jason wasn’t on my short list of possibilities. Carly Smithson and David Cook were – but turns out they did just fine without resurrecting the furry, tattered ghost of Grizabella.

Jason, however, exposed his Achilles’ heel while straining to find a comfort zone within the song: he has no lower register.

His “trainwreck” of a vocal performance (as per Randy Dawg) will likely send him to the bottom three, a space he will share with Brooke and Syesha Mercado.

I know, I know, Syesha’s sassy take on “One Rock & Roll Too Many” from ALW’s fabulicious roller derby “Starlight Express,” was probably her best performance to date.

Note the word performance.

She greased the joints in her robot armor and got all “Fabulous Baker Boys” sliding around that baby grand (I swear I had that written in my notes before Simon mentioned it), and she did hit some big, tough notes.

But she also sounded out of breath in parts and by the time she repeatedly shrieked “I can’t hear nothing,” I muttered (to my cats), “Well, yeah, not after THAT note.”

In the ‘90s, Collective Soul was probably the most understated chart-busting band.

It’s hard to recall now, but between 1994 and 1999, seven of the band’s singles hit number one on Billboard’s Mainstream Rock chart.

The Georgia boys enjoyed a slight resurgence earlier this year when the song “Hollywood,” from their current (independently released) “Afterwords” album, was used in some spots for the Hollywood rounds of “American Idol.”

Last night in front of a crowd of about 800 at The National, the Roland brothers – singer Ed and guitarist Dean – plus drummer Ryan Hoyle, bassist Will Turpin and guitarist Joel Kosche, exhibited their tight rock chops during an 80-minute set.

Performing in front of a cool backdrop of glistening stars, Collective Soul sliced through “Heavy” and “Compliment,” with an array of flickering white lights adding to the songs’ adrenaline.

Ed Roland, still in Eddie Vedder-lite mode vocally, is an animated performer, swaying around the stage with arms outstretched, the floppy ends of his white, long-sleeved shirt acting as a visual prop.

His constant futzing with the microphone stand sometimes distracted, but it’s pretty apparent that the guy enjoys his frontman status.

He strapped on a guitar for “December,” still a great pop-rock song that has plenty of vitriol lurking beneath its gently picked guitar melody. A prolonged version of the 1995 smash also included some of The Killers’ “All These Things I’ve Done” sandwiched between the second verse and final choruses.

The crunchy guitar of “Precious Declaration” and swooping melody of “The World I Know” were strong reminders of how deftly Collective Soul has straddled Top 40 and rock radio throughout its career.

Though the limelight has faded, the band’s live efforts haven’t.