I’m addicted to reality TV. Hard-core, trashy reality TV. Not just The Bachelor, or The Housewives of Orange County/NY/Atlanta. I’m talking I Love NY (1,2 and 3). Rock of Love and, even more compounded, Rock of Love Charm School.
Besides American Idol and Dancing with the Stars I watch mindless TV shows aimed at teenagers and dropouts: Celebrity Rehab (and even further, Celebrity Rehab Sober House) and the dopey Confessions of a Teen Idol.
And oh my, the purest form, the hardest core, the strongest lure: the trash TV reunion shows with their obsequious hosts, where nails are bared, hatreds spew, and secrets spill. I love to watch the bleeped catfights and see the tears flow as we follow-up on people we probably should never have followed in the first place.
Why, you may ask, would a woman of a certain age, who likes to listen to Bach cantatas and has seen most of Ingmar Bergmann’s films stoop to the likes of Flavor Flav and the skanks who love him?
Damned if I know. Maybe it’s the idea of off-white noise without having to concentrate. It's hearing talk in an empty house where I sometimes can go for a day without speaking. Whatever the reason, when I scan the TV listings my eyes go right past PBS’s Nova and onto I Love Money, or maybe my newest, shoddiest discovery, Ru Paul Drag Race.
And I don’t just watch these mindless episodes once. I sometimes see them several times. I get to know the names of the participants and their drunken, exhibitionist ways. Their boobs the size of watermelons (usually the women, except on The Biggest Loser). Their wagging, in-your-face tushies. Their neck-bobbing tempers. Their awful grammar and crooked, blazing white teeth. Their hair extensions in several shades of purple and red. Need I go on?
Watching all this is lurid in a rubbernecking way. It engages a part of my brain that seem to like the base stimulation without much thinking. No lousy plots to follow. No bad acting. Just a fun-house mirror version of life.
Why am I addicted to this crap, at a point in my life when I can tell the difference between worthwhile and worthless? When did this monster first rear its sordid head? Was it a product of menopause? Did I have a head trauma I don’t remember? Or am I just a tacky lady in a semi-classy lady’s body?
Oh, I don’t care for all of it. The Jerry Springer Show and the court shows hold no interest (she says proudly). I seem to prefer the relationship shows like Millionaire Matchmaker where everyone makes a fool of themselves, kisses are choreographed to crappy music, drinking abounds, hot tubs bubble away filled with narcissistic hardbodies, and people come together who I know will leave each other by the time the show airs.
I guess watching this I can feel wise and safe and above it all, and without much effort.
Yes, I still watch some quality TV. But if you took my trash TV away, I’d have a withdrawal, I’m sure. I’d wander around unable to read anything longer than an OS post. I’d need to opine to someone about New York’s choice of Tailor Made over Buddha. And because I often have these shows on in the background when I blog, maybe I wouldn’t even be able to write.
Anyway, I’ve admitted it. And I’m ashamed. And maybe that’s a first step in weaning myself off this low-level entertainment. If my book club members knew about my secret addiction they would ban me. If my sons knew this they would worry that I was edging towards dementia. You who read me now know that I am a shallow addict and an unworthy intellect.
And yet, despite the well-deserved scorn, I am looking forward to seeing Bret Michaels this Sunday and I’m hoping he’ll take away the backstage pass from the girl with the face piercings and the IQ of a frog.
Can anyone help me?
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Comments
Now, the carrot: if we are to be BFF's, this behavior must cease, or at least be curtailed. Yes, I can watch backtobacktoback episodes of Project Runway and Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, but they have, er, redeeming social value? Hmm, not so much.
Please, just tell me you don't have a crush on Howie Mandell.
LOVE THIS! Told as only you can.
If I pause on any other reality show while flipping channels, the boyfriend looks at me as though I have grown a third eye and lost my nose. He doesn't understand the draw of voyeurism/trash TV (coming from a former ECW wrestler, I would think that he would understand … )
Oh Sally ... if Lea doesn't have a crush on Howie, I'll admit that I do. (I think it's his new baldness. It makes me want to rub his head and make squeaky noises!)
Stewie13- the thing is, I put on these awful shows in the background as I write posts. Multi-tasking or just addicted?
Sally, you are such a caring OS BFF. Thank you for the intervention. The good news is that I do not have a crush on Howie Mandell. The bad news is that I have a girl-crush on Sharon Osbourne (your friend).
Sheepdog, quality TV includes much of PBS, old movies, hmmm.
AnniThyme, thank you for understanding about the voyeurism of Rock of Love. And Sally is right that Howie is OCD and a germophobe so I would stick with Ryan Seacrest or his nemesis, Simon Cowell. ;)
MoniqueC, yes, admitting it is the first step. Now what?
Annie, agree on Ryan Seacrest. He is as close to a robot as we can imagine.
A seemingly benign comment in your post gave me the clue I was looking for: "Yes, I still watch some quality TV."
Lea. Lea. Lea. This news is going to be tough for you to handle, but I can find only way to break it to you - straight and blunt. There is NO quality on TV. Hopefully you're not hyperventilating right about now, but the truth is the truth.
The white noise you're addicted to is creating a confused state of mind wherein your subconscious desperately tries to believe that you might, through endless hours of searching the foul, disease-ridden, entertainment dumping grounds, find some glimmer of quality remaining buried in the heaps of slime.
Dr Bob here refers to this as "Slimy Hemorroidal Ischemic Tendonitis Syndrome" an acronym for SHIT'S on TV yet again.
A cure you ask? FIGHT IT YOUNG LADY! Fight it with all your soul and intelligence. This is an insidious condition created by the mindless creators of television entertainment seeking vengeance against those in Hollywood who scorned and belittled them for their shallow imagination and complete lack of writing skills.
The sooner you find the strength to push the remote button to the stations with value - Animal Planet, Science Channel, Discovery and National Geographic, the sooner and more complete your recovery will be.
If all else fails, I’ve read many research articles suggesting that heightened levels of THC works well to assist in creating your own entertainment, so grab a doobie and get those creative thoughts rolling.
What will I do now with my sheltered life and my Vchipped TV that I had that bleached blond Baptist MAN set up so that I would only get what his kids got??
But I am getting tired of Sponge Bob and that little green guy that looks like Rush watshisname..............
Monte
Your addiction is not that uncommon. It's a low tech release from other stresses and brain melt down. Sometimes it's just what we need to feel normal, leave the intellect at the door and check in to some trash tv and check out of all our other realities.
So, what's it tonight? Grey's Anatomy?!? Now ain't that just medical genius hiding in the janitorial closets having sweaty, hot, imaginary sex with a dead guy! If that isn't trashy, I don't know what is.
I usually watch it.
Cat, yes, OS is already like a reality show with smart, creative people.
Bob, thank you for your presciptive help here. The first step is awareness, which I have. And now I have support and by my admission, a motivation to improve. I will head toward Animal Planet as a form of methadone.
Monte, you are protecting yourself from the scourge out there. Don't go near it.
Kind of Blue, I missed that Chris Izaak show; his songs are my fave for Irritated Mother's question of seduction songs, so I would have liked watching. Discovery Channel is quality, btw. I wish I could graduate to there.
Cathy, thank you for understanding. I appreciated it so much.
Jimmy, what do you watch?
Suede, I have no time for dramas -- thankfully!
Sandra, thanks for trying to make this into a useful exercise. With you there, we'd probably have some laughs and find fodder for horror stories.
I have gotten the bug for various reality shows over the years, but girl, Flavor of Love? and the other wacko shows that grew out of it. This is some serious trash TV! But if you're going to dabble I say, fuck it and go all in.
Now, my confession is that I was so addicted to Big Brother the first few seasons that I was addicted to this wonderful web site that monitored the hampsters 24/7. They were called live feeds and were so revealing. This is back in the days of the crazy dude from Rockford Ill. and the dastardly doctor Will!
I understand Lea. This compulsion has no educational or economic distinctions. It is in fact the greatest equalizer of all. We're all snoops and secretly pleased when our neighbors fail.
We are all sinners. (BTW did you have to give that sealskin coat back)?
And yes, I gave back the sealskin. Not much use in Florida.
Oh, and what he said about elevated levels of THC.
Screamin, thanks for coming forward. I will watch this series and then no more Rock of Love. I must move on.
Both my daughters love all the shows you mentioned, which is why I put TVs in their rooms. Don't know why I am so intolerant of other people's trash, but I am. It sends me screaming into the night, naked, hysterical, ripping out my hair and rending my flesh as I go.
I think I can beat this thing by gradation. I am disgusted with what I watch but in the last few months it has become a habit. I need a big trip to get me away and then HBO and PBS.
But I think American Idol is most definitely NOT trash, and now plan to blog my case, soon.
In brief: Americans are anti-intellectual, and anti-criteria. AI has revived & popularized the idea of using critical judgment.
One can fake an awful lot of things in life. Singing resists almost all such fakery, and their format ensures that we learn, for example, the nuances of V Good Commercial voice, and Real Art.
And I guarantee this: the longer AI exists, the more inevitable it becomes that they will discover the next Sinatra or Ella. And when they do it will be TV Gold.
cartouche, the only trash I have is on the tube.
Harp, the feeling is mutual. Thanks for not bailing out on this addicted woman.
I also wonder why humans are drawn to reality TV -- I think it must fit some social function just as gossip does. There must be a reason it's so popular.
Silk, thank you for being kind and trying to explain this addiction. I just think it may be easy to watch and hard to pull away from. I'm about to give it up!! I have decided.
I think that probably counts as trash....
I'm pissed especially at American Idol because it bumped House, my all time favorite TV show to an inconvenient time.
Suede, I agree....Nip/Tuck has not only scraped the bottom of the barrel, they are now wearing that barrel....hopefully out of shame. But I doubt it. ;-D
Anyway, I highly recommend checking out the Onion News Network's special report: Are Reality Shows Setting Unrealistic Standards of Skankiness for Our Nation's Skanks?
http://www.theonion.com/content/video/in_the_know_are_reality_shows
I cannot bring myself to watch a single reality show. Reality shows may be the oxymoron of the 21st century. No reality and mostly morons.
I wouldn't be to hard on yourself. Coming out is the first step in any recovery. (or so I'm told) Maybe now the healing can begin. Showing this side of you is humbling. Like watching your favorite athlete go down in a steroid scandal. To your credit, you came out on your own. A brave thing indeed.
After all of this, I don't think I've ever loved you more than I do right now.
mary, you don't remind me of Vicki. More like Lori!
middleaged, yes perez hilton is in that league.
esse, House is one of the best of the written dramas. The lead actor is fabulous.
Lisa, got it. No prob.
onecorgilover, missed that one (thankfully).
leanndra, thanks. I checked out the video. Very funny.
al, you may be right, but I'm hanging on to the pretense as long as I can.
Michael, you are a dear for showing me unconditional love.