You are currently browsing the daily archive for May 6, 2010.

Last night, I was contemplating what today’s blog topic should be.  Kelsea suggested that I come clean about our trashy TV watching habits (briefly referenced in a recent post on motherhood).  “Really?  Are you sure?”  I asked.  “Of course,” she said, “The world wants to know!”  Well, I’m not so sure about THAT, but perhaps it is time for true confessions. 

Kelsea and I watch them together.  And they’re all absolutely god-awful.  Complete wastes of our two most excellent intellects, as well as wastes of our valuable time.  But, oh well.  We work hard, and complete mushtwaddle is good for the soul once in a while.  (When I vacation alone, I always buy all the available trashy gossip magazines, and leave them as treats in seatback pockets on airplanes, at pools, or in cabs, for others once I’m done with them.)

OK, here goes.  While we don’t catch all of these with any regularity, we feel like we’ve found a copy of “InTouch” on a transcontinental flight when we do see one.

Kimora: Life In The Fab Lane.  This was our first venture into the “fluffy trash” reality TV genre, discovered a couple of years ago on a rainy Sunday afternoon.  “Fabulosity” was adopted as a turnkey word, along with imaginary feather boas, and a lot of open-mouth staring.  Unfamiliar with the show?  Kimora Lee Simmons was, in the past, an uber-model, right up there with Tyra Banks (we’ll get to her later).  She then married music mogul Russell Simmons, had two kids, and divorced him.  I think she came out of it all right though – a massive NYC apartment and house in LA, her own clothing line (called Baby Phat) and god knows how much money.  Her daughters are incredibly indulged, her assistants are fired faster than an Uzi, and her sense what constitutes a crisis, and of the importance of her life and activities in the world is remarkably delusional.  She now also has a new … husband? … and a new baby boy.  All in all, it makes for an entertaining hour.

16 And Pregnant.  An MTV exclusive.  The title of the show is pretty self-explanatory.  For whatever reason though, every pregnant 16-year old featured seems to be from some part of the South, and I find myself taking offense to that.  Don’t Yankee girls ever make bad choices?  What we’re amazed by is the quality (okay, the incredible loser quality) of the guys that these girls hook up with.  They are self-centered, selfish, mean, disrespectful, ignorant, irresponsible,  and unfaithful.  Of course, they could also be up for statutory rape charges.  Huh, maybe that’s why the girls are all from certain states – the statutory rape laws are less strict in some places than others.  At any rate, the girls are almost always keeping their babies, the guys almost always bail on them, and about half the girls wind up resenting the fact that they have to give up partying, and so leave their moms in charge of the baby (or babies, as was the case for one young girl.)  I think watching this is a cautionary tale for Kelsea – especially seeing the way these irresponsible loser guys act after they’ve gotten a young girl to sleep with them – and what happens (among other things) when you don’t use birth control.

Paris Hilton’s My New BFF.  All right, we just saw this last night – it was like watching a train wreck.  There were so many things wrong with this show that I don’t even know where to begin.  I don’t ever want my daughter to be part of a crowd of wannabes who are thrilled to be called bitches by a vacuous celebrity who is famous for nothing other than being a celebrity.  Paris Hilton actually identifies a person (female or gay male) as her “pet” each week.  In the episode we watched, she had her potential best friends drink and party from early afternoon to the next day, then made them play polo on the backs of half-naked men, before ordering each of them to craft a  toast to her at a group luncheon with her mother.  Oh. My. God.

RuPaul’s Drag Race.  I’ve mentioned this one before.  And like I said, it was interesting and raised a lot of discussion about sexuality.  We also acquired several choice phrases like “gaysian”, “condragulations”, and the following expressive and indignant exchange: 

“You called me a whore!”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean a literal whore!”

RuPaul and company are coming to Denver on May 14th, presumably to identify talent for the next season’s show.  Of course, I can’t take Kelsea into the club where the festivities are being held, but we have discussed staking out the place just to see the comings and goings.

America’s Next Top Model.  This is the one show that might have a miniscule amount of merit.  Well, it does if you want to try to be a model.  For me, I find it interesting to watch the photography.  But I also find it interesting to watch how catty the women are.  Though I’m not surprised in the slightest.  Having never been a fashion or runway model, I can’t relate to the competitive nature of the business.  Having been an artist’s model, I do understand how challenging posing is.  At any rate, we find this one interesting, and we can’t get over how amazingly full of herself Tyra Banks is.  Pictures of herself everywhere.  She almost seems like an exaggeration of herself when she instructs the models how to “smile with their eyes” or “look fierce”.  Uh. Whatever.  I still like it.

Well, that about does it.  Our other viewing consists of travel shows, the History Channel, and (of course, since it’s me) Turner Classic Movies, with the occasional Law and Order SUV thrown in for good measure.  We don’t spend all our time watching TV – we often just hang out and talk, play games, read or work on our respective homeworks.  But no matter what we do, we almost always laugh. 

It’s good that we have these trashy spectacles to laugh at together.  I think.

May 2010


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