Reality Shows!

My Guilty Pleasures – Reality Shows!

Now hold up! Regardless of the title of this post, I am not about to expose all my guilty pleasures. First of all, that would be waaaaay too many and take far more space than I have here. Secondly, ya’ll don’t want to see some of that stuff anyway. Therapy would send you (and me via your lawsuit) into the poor house.

But as television goes, however, I am willing to divulge my guilty pleasures. I, dear readers, love drama. Oh, not the kind of drama you see on Law and Order. Naw, the scripted drama just doesn’t cut it. I want, I demand, I crave reality shows.

Yep, I’m one of those people. From Big Brother to all the Housewives spin-offs, I love watching real people be real. I’m not above saying how much I adored watching Nene and Kim (Housewives of Atlanta) go at it on the bus. I will not deny how much I gasp (excitedly) to see Abby Lee (Dance Moms) yell at the kids and their moms. I almost salivate when Jerseylicious comes on. Not only because I’m eating one of my other guilty pleasures─hot buttered popcorn with melted cheese on top─but because I am a reality show junkie.

But why do I lust after shows like Most Eligible Dallas and Flipping Out? How did this happen? Like many of you, I grew up watching great classic shows like I Love Lucy and Laverne and Shirley. I loved the antics of sitcoms and how everything was tied up into a neat little package in thirty minutes. I loved that everyone got along─at least at the end. I wanted to be just like Lucy.

No one ever thought of following “average” people before that show. Why should they have? What did normal, every-day people do that we didn’t all do day in and day out? How interesting could a show about my neighbors be? A reality show would’ve been laughed off the network. And why do we now seek confrontation? Did we finally grow tired of “nice” shows and developed the need to feed the darker side of ourselves? Has the darker side of me been released?

I’m not sure how reality television came about. Did it start with Survivor and then move on to the seamier side of life? Did showing viewers a new kind of game show start us down this road? Is watching reality television a legal way to snoop on your neighbors? I haven’t got a clue.

And frankly, my dears, I don’t give a damn (Sorry. I couldn’t resist) why I like these shows so much. I don’t care if some people think I’m crazy. I don’t care that my husband won’t stay in the same room when I’m watching Theresa flip a table. The only thing I really care about is that I’m not anything like the people on these shows. And you know what? I thank my lucky stars for it!

So? What about you? Come on out of hiding and ’fess up. Are you a reality show junkie too?

Your Reality's Showing

Reality shows are all the rage. High ratings, small production budgets, the public gets to gawk at other people without repercussions. What’s not to love? Actually a lot, but that’s a different blog. What I want to talk about today is a completely different subject. A subject for a reality show. Picture this: a couple packs up their small apartment to move across town. Boring? Not if each of the two have a wide streak of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Not the level of that other reality show, but enough to make things interesting. Enter my husband and me. Yep, we’re an interesting couple…but that’s another blog too.

Open with the two of us standing over a stack of empty boxes. Long discussions ensue about where to stack the things until we use them to pack. Then there’s the weeklong discussion about in which room to start packing. Do we work together or separately? Then I stand in the extra bedroom that is my office for two days trying to decide where to start. Then there’s the biggest problem of all. I had this bright idea to put different color stickers on the boxes to designate the rooms the stuff inside came from—and presumably go to in the new place. Over the last few days, we’ve talked about the issue. We’ve both spent time staring at the packages of colorful dots. So far, we’ve decided that my husband thinks yellow says kitchen. I say red. But we could go either way.

I think it has potential. Snappy music and silly commentary that makes serious fun of us. It could be a great show. But then, we’d have to allow strangers into our already cramped home to make fun of an already stressful situation. Hmm.

Sorry Hollywood, you’ll have to find other suckers for your pack and move show.

Now if we could just decide what color screams living room. Sigh.

Have a great weekend!

Cheryel
www.cheryelhutton.com