I almost didn't tune into NBC last night to see who won America's Got Talent on its finale show.

It was so damn obvious the winner was going to be Nuttin' But Strings, the violin-playing Escobar brothers from Queens, NYC, there seemed little point in wasting an hour watching Jerry Springer announce it. (Although I must confess Jerry is a main draw for me. How can a guy I laughed off as a sensational idiot for all these years be, well, so endearing?!)

But I figured I'd already invested all this time so far.... So I did dishes and ignored the first part of the show, where the top 10 finalists sang Kelly Clarkson's American Idol theme (shameless cross-promotion from AGT's producer Simon Cowell), and the crazies from earlier in the show got in their last 15 minutes of fame with a mediocrity extravaganza.

Watched Queen Emily get the boot. Bummer, but she'll succeed somewhere, no doubt.

Watched Donald Braswell get the boot. Reminds me of a guy I dated briefly in Lansing, Mich., when I was in college. I'm pretty sure it wasn't him, but I still sort of wondered and rooted for him.

And then, right when I was sure we were about to watch young piano man Eli Mattson get the boot, Nuttin' But Stringz was gone.

What? I just looked at my husband in disbelief, and we both watched as the team was honored and then kicked off stage.

Look, America. NBS was the only act that actually created something never seen before - a fusion of hip hop and classical music that was utterly spellbinding. And my 40-year-old, easy-listening self more or less HATES hip hop, so that's saying something. See a clip of their early work on the show here: NBS on YouTube. It only got better from that point on, trust me. They played their own compositions. They incorporated dancers and Vegas-type background animations. Great stuff!

I'm still shaking my head. Right. Now.

Who knows the reasons why NBS didn't make it? Maybe it was the show's demographics. Maybe people really love opera or hard-luck stories that much. Maybe fans just wanted to vote for the top two finalists based on the fact they wore hats.

And don't get me wrong. I'm happy for Neal E. Boyd, the opera singer going to Vegas. Nice guy. Cries a little too much. (Almost keeled over when Jerry called him a "cry baby" and suggested he pull it together for the final performance. Ouch.)

I'm happy for all of them. Proves anything is possible in the United States.

But for sheer talent, I stand firm on my view.

Nuttin' But Stringz was the only finalist worthy of a Vegas show. If you have to fly that far to see something amazing, that's the only one that, for me, came close to defining the word.