Hey, that's not reality

Being Frank, by Frank Ameduri

Thursday night I did something I've never done before -- and will likely never do again. I watched Survivor … 12 whole grueling minutes of it. I guess it was the concluding episode of the latest castaway adventure. When I clicked on to the show, two scruffy guys were being grilled by a mob of other scruffy people. The grillees were the last two contestants vying for the big bucks, and the grillers were some of the people who got the hook during all the bug eating, romancing and petty bickering that I think goes on throughout the course of the adventure.

It took me all of 12 minutes to reach one revelation of which I'm certain. If it calls itself "reality TV," it probably ain't real. There's a whole range of shows in the reality category. Some of them, like COPS, are sort of real. It's real police busting real bad guys. I watched COPS a couple of times. I think there was an element of reality there. Real drunk or drugged people were staggering around in tattered clothing they'd really soiled themselves, and real police officers confronted them, arrested them or rescued them from the foul-mouthed person in the trailer next door. It was loads of fun to watch. I had to give it up, though. I was beginning to think all of humanity was pretty loathsome, and that was starting to make me pretty grumpy.

For the most part, though, reality TV is anything but real. There are a few shows that are all about television's idea of romance. Some hottie gets to date a bunch of other hotties. There are a bunch of hoops to jump through, and one of the hotties is often obscenely rich, which means "really attractive" in American. In the end, the rich hottie gets to pick the poor hottie he or she wants to hook up with and there's a happily-ever-after that lasts about three days. I've got news for you, kids. That ain't romance. If you didn't have a few malt beverages and a six-pound bag of cheese puffs, it wouldn't even be entertainment.

Then there's the adventure-type shows. Survivor is one of those, but then there's the Amazing Race, and I think some others. Let's just give Survivor the reality test. From my limited knowledge of the show, I can make a few assessments. Most of the people on the show are really appealing before they have to start eating bugs and taking part in ridiculous competitions. Once they've eaten bugs and cheated and lied and whined and moaned for a few episodes, they're all pretty annoying. It's like Gilligan's Island acted out by the cast of Beavis and Butthead. In fact, from what little I have seen and read about the show, I think the rules should be changed. Instead of giving the winner a boat-load of cash, I think the winner should be the only person allowed to leave the island. The rest of them should be given sharp knives and a few good coconut recipes and good riddance.

I guess I can understand the appeal of some of these shows. I guess there's a little voyeur in all of us. These shows let us pretend we're peaking through keyholes at real people acting out the drama of life. It's a chance to watch people act in public the way many of us act in private, and then we can gather around the water cooler and talk trash about them. The strangest thing, I think, is how many of us are eager to act like fools for a mass audience. There's no such thing as skeletons in the closet anymore. We're now proud to parade them out and sit them on the couch when company comes over. We're only too happy to pull one another's hair on stage or to brazenly lie for a million bucks. After all, it's just good, ol' family entertainment. I don't know if that's good or bad, but I guess a lot of people feel they need a dose of it from time to time.

If you need a dose of something else -- like some real reality -- there is such a thing on television. You can find it just about any time on PBS, the History Channel, Discovery and all those other boring channels old fuddy-duddies like me like to watch. Just be warned. On the Home and Gardening channel, it's spelled "hoe."

Frank Ameduri is just jealous because Jerry Springer won't return his phone calls.