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OK, so I watch a lot of TV. Sue me. I know there are a lot of people out there who think the television is the “boob tube” but I like it. Well I like it when there is something on worth watching. I must admit that a few years back finding anything to watch, even with over 100 channels, was a crapshoot.
This has not been a problem in the last couple of years. It appears that network TV, in efforts to thwart off the evil cable beast, has been producing some great shows that the public wants to watch. Shows like CSI, Law & Order, 24, Smallville, Lost, Medium, My Name is Earl, Invasion, and yes, even Desperate Housewives have been so consistently good week after week that you can be entertained nightly until the reruns take over.
In fact, there have been so many good shows that on some nights we may be watching one thing and have two VCR’s running at the same time. Sometimes that isn’t even enough and this makes the rerun time of the year great because they are all new to us. So TV life has been good.
That is until the reality beast rears its ugly head. You see, I live with a couple of reality junkies, which means that my viewing harmony is disrupted when certain shows begin airing. I know it is all the rage, but I just can’t get into it. Survivor, The Amazing Race, and American Idol are to put it diplomatically, not my cup of tea.
In my effort to maintain domestic tranquility I just let it play out no matter how painful I find it. Painful is the key word for this time of year and has been amplified by the once in four-year presence of the Winter Olympics. Now I know there are a ton of people who love the Olympics, if there weren’t, there would be no need to have updates in every news report and warnings before they divulge any information pertaining to winners or losers.
I also am aware of its popularity because of its continued presence on every TV in my house, that is until American Idol or Survivor comes on and I get a break until there is a commercial. There is an old stereotype, well a stereotype with a basis in reality like most stereotypes, that men are notorious channel surfers when in command of the TV remote. Well let me tell you that in the last week my wife has demonstrated that there isn’t a male alive who can best her with a remote.
Last night she put on a clinic with the remote jumping from the first night of the women’s figure skating and the first round of American Idol voting. I have never seen any one move between the channels that fast. Not having fully recovered from my Vertigo-like disease, at one point it felt like the room was spinning.
The reason for the channel jumping is that with the length of these two shows, recording them would have caused a video log jam because there just are not enough hours in the day to watch it all. Thank god the Olympics is only two weeks long, I don’t think I could handle it if it were any longer.
I do understand the appeal to my two in-house reality fiends; after all it is the ultimate reality show. With the in-depth profiles of every athlete that is a front runner in their given event, the event itself sometimes seems secondary to the human interest aspect. Maybe the Winter Olympics gets on my nerves because I am not what you would call a snow person, because I can’t remember feeling as irritated during the Summer Olympics. I guess I just don’t see the attraction to curling.
Another thing that I noticed was the revamped medals for these games. Is it just me, or do they look like a thick CD with an oversized hole? My wife’s co-worker, Matt, thought they looked like an old style 45 record so I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that they look kind of cheesy. Maybe they are some kind of mutant DVD that has a recording of them winning their event. If that was the case it would be kind of cool, but I doubt it.
We are about to turn the corner as we only have a week to go in Torino, but once I do, I will be smack dab in the middle of the collision of the reality trifecta. The Bermuda Triangle of the reality universe. The moment in time when the three biggest reality shows, Idol, Race, and Survivor intersect and I know I won’t be able to escape them. It is what I imagine hell being like.
I wander from room to room for weeks only to be facing a TV screen that has one of these shows on in every room I enter. I wander aimlessly through the house like a ghost, afraid of what I will find as I turn the next corner. I guess hell may be a bit strong; it would be more like living in the Twilight Zone with Jeff Probst, Phil Keoghan, and Ryan Seacrest instead of Rod Serling.
I’m sure that many of you watch these shows and like my wife and daughter just love them, but I just don’t get it. With the exception of Idol, The Amazing Race and Survivor are about people that most of us wouldn’t want to be around. They plot against and back stab the other contestants in hopes of a big cash pay out. I see and hear enough of that on a daily basis and find it appalling. When I sit down to be entertained after a long day, the last thing I want to see is what I am trying to escape from.
Call me old-fashioned but I will take the dramatized angst over anything these “real” shows have to offer. I would rather watch a trained professional actor then some dope who knows he’s being filmed and tries to act like he is not being filmed. For me I don’t need to see real blood, the special effects brand is convincing enough as it is.
Well that’s it. American Idol is about to start so it’s time for me to start wandering. I sure hope I can avoid running into Ryan
Seacrest.
The Shrub Speaks: My job as your President is to look at the world the way it is. And I clearly see the threats to America. My job is to worry about those threats. That's not your job. We got a lot of people in government worrying about those threats on your behalf, so you can go about your life. That's what we want. Grand Ole Opry House, Nashville, Tennessee, Feb. 1, 2006
B.D.’s Response: If you want me to worry less, you missed the mark with this statement. I’m worrying even more.
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