I know there are those of you who don’t watch much TV. Or any at all. Good on you, and I mean that. But this post is not for you. (I used to be you. I am now,however, an unashamed Big Ole TV watcher.) (Okay, untrue. I am a little ashamed. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.)
Okay, here’s where I’m going. Reality TV can suck, big time. You know the kind I mean: Let’s put three people in a house and take bets on who sleeps with whom first. That’s just wrong, and I wouldn’t watch it. Or at least I would NEVER admit that I did. I can’t handle Nick and Jessica (although I’ve tried). And those Road Rules shows don’t seem like reality TV, they just seem like an MTV game show with flashing lights and bitchy women in thongs, something I can live comfortably without.
But how in the name of all that’s holy did I end up watching any reality TV at all? Dude, don’t erase Amazing Race off my TiVo, or I’ll sic my drool-cat on you. (Schmirna’s fake accent that would pop up whenever she spoke to someone in a taxicab was driving me CRAZY. “Okee, I geev you dohlars for to use your telephone, okaaaie, Habibbi?” WTF?)
What’s bothering me the most, however, is that I’m watching what I would have guessed would be the nadir of all television programming: Amish in the City. And I don’t hate it. I’m a bit emotionally invested, if the truth is told (I’m really trying here). When Mose almost drowned because he didn’t understand the strength of the ocean, I was all a’flutter. When Miriam’s best friend came for a visit, I thought, a-HA. I was right! She IS a lesbian. (Don’t tell me you didn’t think it. Those were some damn emotional hugs.)
I just can’t quite believe they put five Amish kids and six LA kids in a house in Beverly Hills, but they did, by golly. Now that’s the way to get your rumspringa on (a word I’ve always loved. I’m 32 and still in my non-Amish based personal rumspringa.)
I felt a little better when I read this article — it makes the series sound deeply thoughtful, a “new generation of constructive, literate reality TV shows.” Well. I don’t know about all that. I think it’s not the ultimate trash that it should have been.
But I’m still embarrassed. What about you? ‘Fess up.
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