This post is part of our Battle of the Brands feature. Let us know which brand you prefer, and watch out for more Battle of the Brands posts.

I took my son to his spring-break baseball camp this morning in Lakeland, Florida. After dropping him off I drove past a Dunkin' Donuts: Hey I worked out yesterday -- I'm going in. I had a nice conversation with the clerk, Ralph. Ralph, I ask, do your customers ask you for a choice of coffee flavors? Ah, no, he says, just small, medium and large. Wanna a donut, they're fresh? Sure, I ask for a chocolate glazed, please, with a medium coffee. Do you sell CDs or popular, theme-oriented books here? Huh? No, he says, just the donuts and three coffees: small, medium, or large. The guy in line behind me urged me to hurry up -- he was hungry. I moved out of the way as he ordered four different donuts. Being a social kind of guy, I asked him if he was going to a meeting and bringing the goodies? No, he says, these are for me, my breakfast. OK, I got that.

Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks: Milk and sugar vs. non-fat lattes. The success of the two is enviable, yet their customer base is quite different. Dunkin' Donuts serves, in general, millions of blue-collar workers with scrumptious, made-that-morning donuts in several varieties. The coffee is actually quite good, but Dunkin' Donuts is not known for its ambiance or as a place to sit and work on your laptop. It's buy the donuts, thank you, and move on. The donuts are delicious and addictive. My guy Ralph even suggested they need a rehab facility for Dunkin' Donut addicts. He explained that he has about 350 regular customers. He defined regulars as "people that are in at least four or five times per week, every week. I even know their vacation schedules!" Now, that's loyalty.

Okay now, I've kept quiet on the subject thus far even though it has given me cause to question the validity of music appreciation and of "reality" television in general. This week, however, I find it impossible to keep my thoughts to myself. American Idol was blessed this week to be graced by the presence of Tony Bennett, the man who put the "B" in ballad and an icon of music history who is probably as responsible for as many loving moments as Issac Hayes.

For me, it shapes up like this: I don't care what Sanjaya Malakar looks like, how he dresses, how his hair is done, where he comes from, his race, religion, sexual leanings, culture or favorite muppet. The sad fact of the matter is that by now the marginally talented kid has no business occupying a spot on a stage where he could even consider the possibility of looking a man like Tony Bennett in the eye. At this point in the game it's wrong, just plain dead wrong.

You may play games with this kid if that's what you'd like to do America but think for a moment about the message you're sending to the world with your votes. You have no taste. You have no guts. You'd rather opt for humorous shenanigans over an exercise of honest conscience. You have taken the futures of at least a half dozen seriously talented people and tossed them at the dumpster because you thought it an appropriate joke to vote against what you knew to be the truth. Jim Cramer must be proud of you.

My greatest sorrow with this situation is the recollection of the passing of that other divine crooner Frank Sinatra. I really wish that Frank was still around to have witnessed this all going on. The reason being, Frank and his Rat Pack would have put an early end to all this nonsense without America being any the wiser. This is no longer a case of bad judgment. It has become a inexcusable display of gut twisting bad taste. Please America restore my faith in your recognition of talent. Reaffirm the proposition of "May the best one win".