I have a confession to make. This is my dirty little secret du jour and as much as I want to deny its truth, I cannot keep it to myself any longer: I am watching this season’s “The Bachelor” television show. I can feel your judgment from here and I know I deserve it. This show and those like it are the equivalent of mental play-doh. There is no substance or plot or purpose, it’s just a mental vacation from all the concerns of day-to-day living. I read serious books, I read the news, involve myself in political issues, follow humanitarian concerns and appreciate intellectual discourse. I also watch shamefully bad TV in the form of the “The Whores” . . . I mean, “The Bachelor.”
I have lots of friends who watch shows like this and none of them are bad people, but I’m a snob and it’s difficult to maintain my intellectual superiority when I’m bottom feeding on entertainment’s weakest offerings. Since I am watching however, this is the perfect place to lodge a complaint against said TV vomit. Reality shows are appealing to networks because they’re cheap. People love to be on camera and if they think they have a shot at getting their fifteen minutes of fame they’re willing to do almost anything. Twenty-five singles go on a television show to vie for the attentions of one bachelor or bachelorette. Pathetic, sad, fame-hungry idiots and I’m sucking it all up religiously on Monday nights.
I excuse my inclination toward bad TV and the occasional awful teen type movie (I admit, I went to see the horrifically stupid remake of Fame) because I follow the life and death issues happening in the real world. Rationalization is my specialty. What gets me, is the people that go on these stupid shows. Let’s analyze the Bachelor. The bachelor himself is a handsome and successful commercial airline pilot. From watching the show I would say he’s got a good head on his shoulders and should have no trouble finding women to date or marry. Marriage, in fact, is what he says he wants. This guy claims to be ready for the big commitment; he’s only on the show to find serious women who want to be in love and spend their life with him. Jackass.
I’m not doubting the possibility that the guy believes he wants love and marriage, but when faced with twenty-five women ranging in age from 22 to somewhere in their early 30’s, Mr. Serious narrows down his choices to the youngest of the bunch. No offense to my just-out-of-college sisters, but 22 and 23-year-old women aren’t exactly the best match for lifetime commitments, especially for a guy who is ten years older. If you are serious about love and marriage, maybe weeding out all the women with common experiences from the last decade isn’t the best idea. If she’s fresh from the frat house kegger, maybe you’re making the wrong choice.
The only conclusion I can draw from my bad TV experiment is that the reason people watch is because it makes you feel smarter. I’m not watching because I care about the guy or his 25 wannabe wives, I’m watching because it gives me something close to enjoyment to watch this train wreck in the making. Perhaps we watch because life is full of unpleasant surprises, complications and work. Bad TV is the mental vacation we need and the feeling of superiority watching idiots behaving idiotically gives us is the pat on the back and ego boost we all need. It also doesn’t hurt that everyone is pretty to look at and take their shirts off regularly.
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