Blogging from vacationland today, where I can't resist tossing in a few opinions on the latest head-scratcher to come out of the American Idol camp -- news that judge Paula Abdul has an agent who is telling the press she won't be on the show next season, after all.

Spend a moment dissecting the Los Angeles Times story that kicked off all this publicity, and you'll see a textbook case of negotiating by media -- a strategy the LA Times seems only too happy to facilitate. (Small surprise for a publication that recently earned distinction by running an ad designed to look like a newspaper story on its front page.)

You have an antsy star represented by a newly hired agent who claims Idol producer 19 Entertainment hasn't yet offered her a new deal. You have a seemingly definitive statement -- "Very sadly, it does not appear that she's going to be back on Idol" -- followed by information that indicates nothing definitive has happened at all.

Add in the news that host Ryan Seacrest recently announced a fat new deal to continue serving as the voice of TV's biggest show -- a reported $45 million over three years that the LA Times says doubled his salary -- and you have all the ingredients for a backstage star meltdown that pushed the agent into leaking this suspicious story to the media. I can almost hear Abdul shrieking over the phone to her beleaguered agent -- "Tell them I'm not coming back! That will make them give us a new deal."

(At least the name of Abdul's agent is pinned to the story; most truly textbook negotiations using the media involve anonymously sourced stories so as to make the later reconciliation easier.)

If Idol producers are as smart as they think they are -- and getting their director nominated for an Emmy despite regularly airing live shows so long the endings were clipped off by home video recorders indicates they may be -- they know new judge Kara DioGuardi is no real replacement for Abdul.

Where Abdul is charmingly eccentric, DioGuardi is hopelessly grounded. Where Abdul is bafflingly unpredictable, DioGuardi's thirst for fame and dollars is painfully predictable.

Where Abdul is the cool, banal balm before judge Simon Cowell bluntly tells the world what actually happened onstage, DioGuardi is a watered-down version of both -- still unsure when to kiss and when to kick the show's hopefuls.

More than producing the actual show itself, this may be the most crucial moment in the show's continued development. With two of its biggest stars in negotiations -- Cowell's contract ends after next year; he did his own negotiating by media earlier this year when he told the English press he might not return -- producers must balance pressure to rein in costs with big names expecting big paydays.

I suspect Abdul's guy may have overplayed her hand. Much as viewers have come to love the loopy singer/dancer/cougar, there's also an acute sense that her value to the show is limited, if singular.

And let's be honest; earning millions to do what these "judges" do on Idol -- where they essentially serve as the face for an army of casting producers -- is a bit of travesty by itself.

Given Abdul's past inconsistent public statements, don't be surprised if both sides find a face-saving way to keep her on the show, if they work out the money details.

Especially considering what many of her contemporaries from the '90s pop scene are doing -- anybody heard from Milli Vanilli or the Information Society recently? -- Abdul must realize she's on the cusp of losing the job of a lifetime.

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