. . . reality t.v.
My husband and I do not have live t.v. stations. We do have rabbit ears, but our 3 stations alternate between sort of fuzzy and so fuzzy you can’t see anything, so we haven’t watched a commercial-laden television show (at home) in probably 3 years. This whole no t.v. experiment began out of financial necessity and has continued because we’re just used to it. Though sometimes I miss being “in on” the stuff that everyone else is talking about – I have never watched a full episode of American Idol beginning to end, and so frequently talk around the water cooler excludes me – it’s not enough to make me change. We are devout members of Netflix, and the bulk of our Netflix queue is great t.v. series, so we still enjoy a lot of television shows. I think a lot of well-written t.v. is a high art form, to be admired and absorbed just like a fine night of theatre or a stirring painting or sculpture. And a lot of bad t.v. is just a great way to completely veg out if you’re tired, or sick, or just had ONE OF THOSE DAYS and need to escape from life for a half hour or so.
OK, so here’s the point. I am just absolutely not into reality t.v. I never have been. I realize that I am writing to an audience of devout DWTS watchers, and American Idol devotees, and I promise again this is not a personal attack against you. Just against your beloved shows. I know you watch it tongue in cheek. I know you watch it because it’s kitschy and ridiculous. But I just can’t do it. When it comes on, I want to throw my shoe at the set. I scream at the stupidity of some of the people. I curse the networks that presume I am emotionally retarded, and cannot see the editing and the soul-stirring music for the emotional manipulation that it is. I roll my eyes at the hosts, who are rarely very articulate and who take themselves way the heck too seriously. I berate the writing, which doesn’t demand the smallest iota of intelligence from its viewers and spends much more time selling products to me than entertaining me. I get angry at some of the misogyny and racism that I see, sometimes subtle, sometimes casual, and often exploited for the point of ratings. I get wayyy too excited about this stuff.
I don’t see these shows very often – maybe at the gym. At friend’s houses. I have had enough exposure to know that I don’t want any more. DWTS and shows like it I don’t think are so bad – they are flash and color, pretty to look at, fun. The ones I truly truly hate are ones like Rock of Love, or the Ultimate Coyote Ugly, or any where women compete for the attention of men. I watched a beautiful, vibrant, smart, 180 pound woman (who unaccountably went on tv to try to become a Coyote Ugly bartender) do her exit speech thing after she got eliminated from the competition for “not preparing her body”. Her eyes grew bright, and her smile became a twisted grimace as she tried valiantly to hold it together, and she said “When 60 pounds comes between you and what you want, then you lose the 60 pounds.” I nearly cried with her. I do not want to watch this. This is real pain, twisted into melodrama, and I don’t know which annoys me more – that this lovely woman is taking this so seriously, or that the network is capitalizing on her sadness in such a cheap and tawdry way. Or, that they expect me to buy it. I don’t know.
So. That’s my rant. Call me a grump, or snooty, but I am what I am. And yes, I realize the irony of someone who blogs daily about her life being annoyed by reality t.v. Too bad.
Peace and Grumpy No TV Watching Love to you – G Love