Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Reality TV

I can not handle reality TV.

You know that feeling you get, when you are on a roller coaster, ascending up the tracks at a painfully slow pace..where your intestine seems to wind up in knots so tightly that you..can't..really..breathe?

That is how I feel when I watch reality TV shows.

I can't handle them.

If there were reality TV shows where: A) there were no losers, B) no one was made to look or feel stupid, and C) the people were on the show willingly and knew that the outcome was going to be good...then I would watch.

I guess that the home decorating shows fit that bill..of being humane. Even if some of the decorators make you feel like a blind troll, with the way your house looks now, at least afterwords you come out on top with a hopefully-cool-looking-house.

But there have been even a few of those shows that made my stomach turn.

There was one decorator on Trading Spaces whose ultimate goal seemed to be to make the wives end up in tears when time came for the big room reveal.

I remember watching once where she painted the couples dining room the color of raw egg yolk, painted her antiques glossy black, like something you'd see in a Vegas strip club. And for the finishing touch she put a big vase in the middle of the dining table and filled it with eggs.

The wife opened her eyes and either burst in to tears or said that she absolutely hated it.

I can't remember because I had stopped breathing at that point in the show...maybe it was me who burst in to tears.

But alas, most of the reality TV shows have the common theme of having at least one cast member utterly humiliated for the sake of laughs.

Can not stand it.


"Really? You mean I am living through their nightmare on live TV, with a gazillion other people, as it is taking place? So, if this poor sap decides to up and kill himself because he is so dejected, I am going to get to see that live as well??...cause ya could happen."

No...I need security. I need to know that the people had a happy ending. I don't mind movies where there is some twisted plot, cause guess's pretend. Or if it's based on a true story, I know what the outcome is.

But reality TV...anything could happen. People could be destroyed...dashed...denegrated...and in front of everybody.

So, Gavin had Tivoed some reality TV show that a bunch of Dalton's friends like to watch. It's the one with Ozzy Osbourne's wife and the Hoff from Baywatch (gosh, is he ever orange! It's like watching a giant Oompa Loompa).

So, we decided to watch it this morning, in place of our normal cartoons. And the entire time was agony.

I kept grimacing, watching though the fingers covering my eyes,...saying "I can't watch this."

I felt like I was like witnessing a train wreck. Those poor people being torn apart by three has-beens, and trying their hardest not to break down and cry.

There were good acts too...but even those were painful. Because the guys with the basketballs COULD miss a dunk...and the little granny could have a joke fall flat...and the darling male ballerina could trip.

I-did-not-breathe-the-entire-time. It started to drive the kids crazy. They were like "then leave! Don't watch it!" so I did.

It is just too much for me.

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