Here's the official word. Walters's announcement probably would have been more dramatic if the news hadn't been spread already …

Barbara Walters, creator/executive producer and co-host of ABC Daytime’s "The View," announced tonight during ABC’s live, three-hour broadcast of "The 33rd Annual Daytime Emmy Awards" that Rosie O’Donnell has been officially named a co-host of "The View." Ms. O’Donnell will debut on "The View" in September, the start of the show’s 10th season. This will mark Ms. O’Donnell’s return to daytime television.

Ms. O’Donnell was previously host and executive producer of her own daytime talk show, "The Rosie O’Donnell Show," which ran for six years. She has garnered 12 Daytime Emmy Awards, including Emmys for Outstanding Talk Show and Outstanding Talk Show Host.

"We are thrilled that Rosie, one of the greatest stars in the history of daytime television, has agreed to join us on ‘The View.’ What an exciting way to begin our 10th season," said Ms. Walters.

"I was touched and honored when Barbara asked me. She paved the way for all women in television, and I can’t wait for September," said Ms. O’Donnell.

With "Idol" beginning its stretch run — and with five capable singers still in the competition — I've been thinking about ways to make the show, and the singers, better. The show has had some good performances lately, but it's been short on goosebump-making. How to get that back? Here are a few comments.

Paris: Drop the mature act. You're a teenager. Play to that. Stop trying to be the worldly woman. As I said before, when you sing "The Way We Were," you don't have much "were" to draw on. Admit that. Dress down. Sing bubbly. Think Stacy Lattislaw. There's a big teen audience out there, and it's not too late for you to become their icon.

Taylor: Have fun again. Of all the remaining contestants, you're the one who seems least happy to be on the show right now. They'll pan smiling faces, and you'll be the one with the scowl. Maybe it's because you know you've been coasting, trying to get by on shouts and goofy dance moves. Get in touch with the guy we liked when you first appeared — the bluesy singer who enjoyed himself. Also, pick better material.

Katharine: Get a puppy. You're a very good singer. I thought you were one of the best this week. But the knock I keep hearing about you is that you're cold, even snobbish on the air. I don't see it, but I don't vote either. It's not enough at this point to sing well and show some skin; you have to be bring some personality to bear — so the audience will still love you if you don't sing great. So get a cute dog. Cry on the air. Have a kid. All right, so there's not enough time for that. Borrow a kid.

Chris: Rock us like a hurricane. You've successfully shown that you have some mainstream-pop moves, and that you'll be able to perform a decent version of whatever horrible single you might stuck with if you win this thing. Now go back to being that deep-tracks rock guy who seemed so fresh when the show began.

Elliott: Find that monster performance. I know, that advice could apply to any of the remaining contestants, but I don't have much else for you. It's not that I think you're great. But I think you're very smart. And you've been especially smart at coming on as the gutsy underdog, the guy who looks so un-"Idol"-like but keeps hanging in there. There's no point in remaking yourself, and you're not far removed from your "Idol" roots. The only thing you need to do is convince us that you deserve that title — and one big performance could get you there.

Naturally, I can't let the show go without some advice for the judges. Well, one judge. Paula: Shut up. As nutty as you have been in the past, this week topped all previous excess, to the point that it's not merely annoying to watch you. It's creepy. So put a sock in it. You've rarely said anything worth hearing, anyway.

The networks officially announce their fall schedules in May, but there are always announcements before the announcements. Yesterday, NBC renewed all three shows bearing the "Law & Order" name. Today it added "Medium," "Crossing Jordan" and "Las Vegas" to the pickup list.

Although I like "Medium," the other two renewals won't have any impact on my viewing habits (although I do watch "Las Vegas" occasionally, usually with brain completely turned off). I was far happier awhile back when NBC renewed "The Office," a show that was both funny and squirm-inducing in Thursday's telecast.

We don't always get to see all the elaborate maneuvers leading into Tribal Council, with schemes edited out so that we might be surprised by the outcome. But tonight we got to see Cirie lay out a scheme that involved telling two different lies to three different players — and came off the way it should have.

Here's what she did: Terry had won immunity, again. Nutty Shane thought he had the votes to take out Danielle — but Cirie and Courtney were playing him. (Lie one, Player One.) Terry set up an alliance with Courtney, Cirie and Danielle to take out Aras. But Danielle and Cirie were playing HIM. (Lie two, Player Two.) They saw Courtney, almost as annoying as Shane, as someone both Shane and Terry would want to take to the final two, figuring they could beat Courtney on a jury vote. So they connected with Aras — while keeping Courtney in the dark (Lie Two, Player Three) — to form three votes for Courtney's ouster. Half the people in the game went into Tribal Council with no idea what was about to happen.

The only thing that would have made it better would have been Terry's sniffing out the plot and giving his secret immunity idol to Courtney — protecting her and taking Aras out of the game (since he still got votes from Courtney and Terry, while the only vote for Danielle came from Shane, who by tribal council was out of all the loop). But even without that twist, it was a cool finish. And proof how very, very smart Cirie is at this game.

It's possible, of course, that this puts Shane in a better position. As the most irritating player remaining, he may become the player people now most want against them in the final two.

On the jury side, Bruce was back, so I don't get the possible-tie scenario I hoped for after last week's telecast.

Fox has announced the musical themes for next week's "American Idol." " Next week, the remaining contestants will each perform two songs," says the network, "one from the year when they were born, and any Top-10 Billboard charts from this week."

In other words, we're back to making it easy on the remaining performers. After all, with post-"Idol" marketing to consider, including the winner's CD, it's better not to embarrass anyone left on the show.

After my usual Wednesday frenzy of "Idol" (watching, blogging, podcasting), the bride and I wound down with "The Amazing Race." Sorry to see Fran and Barry go, because they were both likable and — at times — pretty good at the game. Even sorrier to see them go because MoJo turned into such a nasty, horrible pair. Even though people are stressing from the intensity of the game, I have to wonder if the editing is affecting perception — that either they were mean before and it was edited out, or they just hit a nasty streak that was played prominently in the show. Either way, MoJo gave off a Rob & Amber vibe that I just did not like.

As for "Veronica Mars," there's been a theory floating around that Woody is not only a master criminal but something far more predatory, and last night's episode sure seemed to be taking us in that direction. But as deeply as I'm falling into the mystery, this episode makes the highlight reel for Logan's stunning, drunken, pathetic plea to get Veronica back — and for the way Veronica reacted. The follow-up was not as good; when people don't open the door all the way, you know they're hiding someone. But even there, look at what Jason Dohring, who plays Logan, is doing. Could the Emmy voters please give him some love this year?

Wednesday nights, by the way, are getting too crazy in TV terms, at least in the House of Heldenfels. At 8 p.m. alone, we DVR'ed four things — "Alias," "Amazing Race," "Bones"  and"One Tree Hill."

Tonight's podcast is available through:

www.ohiomm.com/podcasts/tv/idol_results_042606.mp3

My written notes from tonight's telecast follow below.

Kellie's gone! Kellie's gone!

No more dumb-bunny jokes. No more challenged vocabulary. And, aside from Taylor, who's been swimming in mediocrity for a bit, no really stinky singers left.

I was prepared for Paris to go. There had been a lot of buzz that she was at the end of her string today. Amy Carlson Gustafson, my podcasting buddy, had arranged for us to do a later-than-usual podcast tonight because Paris is a local angle for her, and she might have had to write up Paris's farewell.

And she was there in the bottom two, with Kellie, who had beaten the odds before by surviving bad performances on the strength of personality.

Instead, we had a week where the "Idol"-voting nation mobilized, with the show claiming more than 47.5 million votes, supposedly a record for an "Idol" telecast other than a season finale.

And at the top of the heap, according to the show, were Chris and Katharine, who topped my report card on Tuesday night. (Of course, I also thought Chris might be in trouble, so wrong there. And I said the only surprise eliminations would be Kellie or Taylor, so I was surprised. Though delightfully.)

That left Taylor and Elliott in the middle of the pack, and I can think of plenty of scenarios where any of the five remaining could win, and there are all sorts of intriguing possibilities in the finals, starting with Chris vs. Katharine.

But I am SO happy that Kellie is gone. She had been running on gimmickry for far too long.

Happy, too, for Katharine, not only for surviving but for getting an apology from Simon for misjudging her performance (along with a low-key admission of excessive harshness from Randy). The judges cannot hear the performances well, as they occasionally admit, and it was nice to hear it tonight. (And how can Paula hear anything over whichever voices echo in her head? "Cry, Paula." "Dance, Paula." "Declare yourself the empress of all you survey, Paula.")

On non-results notes, who was picking the camera shots during Bocelli's performance — Bocelli himself? He's going for the big finish in his song, and we get a shot of Elliott gesturing as the "Idol" contestants start to move over to surround Bocelli — ideally, AFTER he has finished his song. Car ad: "Call Me," with a cute dog.

(Those of you looking for last night's "American Idol" post, see below.)

I have been thinking about Tony Snow's head. I will chalk some of that up to mental fuzziness. Didn't get enough sleep last night. Then, just as I thought I had a plan worked out for this morning, my bride looked at our main calendar and saw that I was taking the car in for service. Which I had forgotten. "Oh, goodness, goodness, goodness," I said, only I wasn't exactly saying "goodness." Anyway, got the car to the shop, got a ride to the office, got my plan for the morning more or less back on track. And thought about Tony Snow's head.

(A consumer advisory of sorts: Snow and I have a slight professional connection, with the Newport News Daily Press on our respective resumes, though our terms of service did not overlap.)

Back to Snow's capped mountain. It's a very TV-friendly head, isn't it? Snow is good-looking enough that you can almost forget what he is actually saying and think, gee, what a pleasant fellow.

This may explain why it's a good idea for the White House to have Snow as its new press secretary. Doesn't matter what he says. Doesn't matter if he so alienates the White House correspondents that reporters start throwing spitballs at him. He'll look good, he'll sound good. The reporters badgering him will seem petty and mean, and in many cases less attractive.

You think this is trivial? Not even close. Looks count in politics, the same way they count in anything else involving television. Consider the glam advantage Sean Hannity has over Alan Colmes. Consider how much less air time Ann Coulter would get if she wasn't a leggy blonde. As able as Katie Couric is, she wouldn't have gone as far if people wished she wore a bag over her head.

So Tony Snow's head matters. To mix anatomy, it gives the White House a leg up on TV.

Here's the link to tonight's podcast:

http://www.ohiomm.com/podcasts/tv/idol_show_042506.mp3

There may be some technical difficulties, including a small clicking sound.

And here are some written notes about the show:

Tonight was one of those where I had to zip through my DVR'ing of "Idol" because I was at a church meeting when the thing actually aired. Didn't hear the judges' comments, caught only snippets of the Andrea Bocelli/David Foster guidance for the contestants. Just stuck with the performances.

And have to say that I thought Katharine started the show very well. Yes, she was alarmingly cleavaged, so much so that any lateral movement seemed to threaten a wardrobe malfunction. But her cover of "I Have Nothing" was still powerful, if only by sheer force of personality. It reminded me of Kelly Clarkson when she decided that it was time to take over the first "Idol" — and by gosh, did it. B plus for Katharine.

Elliott, Elliott, Elliott. "A Song For You" was not a song for me, and I love the tune. I just wanted him to make more of it. C plus.

Kellie. "Unchained Melody." Unbelievably bad. Her eyes were dead, as if she had stripped herself of all emotion in order to remember the words and the notes — and some of those notes were shrieks. If this doesn't get her into the bottom three (out of six, for crying out loud), then her fans believe in forgiveness on a grander scale than I can conceive. D plus.

Paris. "The Way We Were" is an odd song for someone who admits her life is too short to have much "were." Still, I liked her voice, even if she got screechy here and there. B.

Taylor. "Just Once." Man, the guy's range seems to get smaller every week. C minus.

Chris. "Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman." I might have been more impressed if he had reached into the Clapton catalog for "Have You Ever Loved a Woman." (Taylor might have done all right with that, too, getting back to his bluesy origins.) This was good, about a B plus, roughly even with Katharine for best performance of the night. But I wonder if Chris is making the right tactical move.

Tonight was, in key ways, the night that everyone says they can sing that big pop song that waits at the end of the "Idol" rainbow. It was as if the presidential primaries are over and now the candidates have to woo the general electorate, moving to different ground to do so. But when you reach out to some voters, you risk losing others.

Given Chris's relatively low vote a week ago, he may be alienating his bedrock constituency but not picking up enough pop fans to compensate or grow. So I wouldn't be surprised to see Chris go this week. Then again, I won't be surprised by the departure of Paris, Katharine or Elliott, either, regardless of this week's performances. The only shocks would be Taylor or Kellie, and both have been just bad enough to deserve ouster.

Still, taking the show as an island of singing instead of as part of the chronosynclastic infundibulum of "Idol" performances past and present, there were good performances. (My colleague Amy Carlson Gustafson disagrees, as will be evident if you check out our podcast.)

After watching television most of my life, I like to think that it's hard to shock me. But every now and then that kid who was watching TV in the '50s gets an eyeful or an earful of something that shocks. The "anal" joke on "How I Met Your Mother" on Monday night was one of those. And considering that it was in a show that airs at 8:30 p.m. (7:30 in some parts of the country), I was even more stunned.

I know, I know, "How I Met Your Mother" is not remotely a show aimed at kids. All the characters are adults, and their concerns are very adult. Before we had gotten to that joke, we had endured numerous riffs about prostitutes. (The plot involved Barney setting up Ted with a hooker.) Still, I was thinking, this is what they can get away with before 9 at night?

There was also a shock factor in "Two and a Half Men," only partly of the show's making.  A major part of the episode involved Charlie dating the mother of Alan's ex-girlfriend. Well, dating doesn't exactly cover it. Charle and Mandi (the mom) spent most of the episode in bed, with considerable conversation about what they were doing there.

In another week, I might have just considered this another funny "Men" episode, pushing the laughs while pushing the envelope on describing characters' behavioral extremes. But on this particular Monday, I had been reading the declaration by Denise Richards in her ongoing divorce battle with Charlie Sheen. (You can find a copy, with raw language and descriptions, here.)

Sheen fired back, calling the charges "baseless" in an "Entertainment Tonight" interview; you can find a report here. But Richards has already done her damage, especially to Sheen as a TV personality. If you read her comments, then look at the character he is playing on TV, it's tough to think the small-screen behavior is funny; it's easy to wonder if art is presenting a toned-down version of reality.

I don't know that, of course. And Charlie is not playing Charlie Sheen on TV. But he is playing a character with echoes of his old bad-boy image, one that is more believable because of the accounts of Sheen's behavior over the years. And what I've been reading lately sure mutes the expected laughs.

I've been going through a period where Las Vegas keeps popping up on my video screen. Not just commercials for the place, or for the TV show "Las Vegas." I sat down Friday with a review disc of a new Kathy Griffin special, and there she was, talking about Celine Dion in Vegas. Channel hopping one night, I landed on "Midnight Run," the Robert deNiro-Charles Grodin picture. Climactic scene is in Las Vegas. The "What About Brian" premiere a week ago, set partly in Las Vegas. And, since my TV mailbag column began running in Las Vegas, notes have arrived regularly from there.

Most of the time, I would shrug this off as mere coincidence, or the brain gathering string.

(Another recent bit of string-gathering: Noticing how cell phones have made it more difficult for writers. Think of all the scenes in older productions where people labor to find a phone, often a pay phone. Then add in the difference that caller ID makes. But I digress.)

But Las Vegas has been stuck in my head for about a month, since the bride and I went there, with me going for the first time.

The one thing I keep coming back to is how freakin' huge the place looks compared to the relative coziness of it on TV — how enormous, for example, Caesars is. The shopping area, let alone the casino, seems to go on forever. You look down the strip and think that a brightly lit casino sign isn't that far away, only to walk for miles — because the sign was, well, freakin' huge. The inside of the casinos don't always feel as big, because they're so stuffed with slot machines and blackjack tables, but then you walk from row to row of slots and realize how easy it is to get lost in such places. Like many people, I would try my luck at one machine, then move to another, clutching the paper strip that has taken the place of buckets of coins, and hoping for a change in luck that never changed.

I saw most if through a thin haze of smoke that defied the constantly moving air. I got more second-hand in a few days in Las Vegas than I had inhaled in probably the entire previous year of relatively smoke-free environments. Nor was I crazy about the repeated attempts to get us to look at time shares, attempts that always seemed to begin with the offer of cheap tickets to shows.

There's also a lot of Las Vegas that is more seedy than you usually see in the colorfully lit terrain of "C.S.I." Older places like Circus Circus are shopworn, and on the street you sometimes run a gauntlet of people handing out cards for various sex-related entertainments.

But the seediest thing I saw was Pete Rose, sitting outside a mall store, waiting to sign autographs for people. I didn't get close enough to ask his price. It's bad enough to know that he has one.

Then there was the good stuff — the whole life-is-a-fantasy quality of the place, whether you're walking through Caesars or walking by a white tiger at the Mirage or looking at the Big Apple flourishes built into New York New York, or watching the fountains at the Bellagio, or just trying to get through the crowd that gathers to watch the ship outside Treasure Island. Food's not cheap, but the buffet at the Mirage was an epic — tons of food, an array of varieties, enough that with a little pacing you could make one meal that filled you the rest of the day, and into the next.

We also saw one of the 5,722 Cirque du Soleil shows around Las Vegas, and it was entertaining enough — funny, well-paced, with some jaw-dropping acrobatics.  But the perfect Las Vegas moment came on our last night there, when we saw Wayne Newton at the Flamingo.

Let me say it again. Wayne Newton. The Flamingo. The casino that started it all, the dream of the visionary Bugsy Siegel. Doesn't much matter what has been done to it over the past 60 years; it is still a name above all others in the Vegas of the imagination. And while Celine and Elton — and famous-in-Vegas names like Danny Gans — are the icons of the modern era, Wayne Newton is still a link to the Classic Vegas, to the style of the Frank/Dean era. (If we hadn't seen Wayne, we would have had to give serious consideration to Steve & Eydie at the Stardust.)

Wayne's voice is not as strong as it once was, and his performing hall at the Flamingo was pretty modest when you thought about the lights and dazzle at Cirque du Soleil — or even those "Blade Runner"-ish video billboards along the strip. His patriotic-song finish demanded far better effects. But the show, which blended music and comedy (both aided by Newton's supporting cast of singers and musicians) and allusions to the past, was the onstage Las Vegas I had long imagined. I couldn't help grinning through about half the show.

Of course, if we go back, we're talking about Elton tickets. That's another side of Vegas, and I want to see that, too. Maybe not real soon, since I'm still soaking up that first, dizzying trip. But we'll get back.