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April 2007
Charmed, I’m sure
Some of you (hopefully, many, many of you) may be unfamiliar with a reality show called Flavor of Love. As one who believes in keeping entertainment real by keeping it unreal, this show got really high marks from me. For starters, the show’s “love interest” Flavor Flav (which I suspect is not his given name) is not only as plain as a mud fence, he’s living proof that black does, indeed, crack. The premise of the show is that a dozen or so women are madly in love with Flav, and are willing to prove their undying devotion and worthiness as a life partner by calling each other names while trying to pull each other’s hair (real or imagined) out by the roots.
That show was apparently so successful, it spawned another unreal reality show, I Love New York. Now, some of you (hopefully, many, many of you) may be wondering what a show promoting the Big Apple has to do with any of this. New York isn’t a city. New York (which I suspect is not her given name) was a woman who apparently came in second to Flav’s affections, but made such a good impression on the show’s producers, they gave her her own unreal reality show of her own. I can’t really comment because I didn’t really watch it, unless you count pausing briefly on VH1 during the I Love New York marathon to see if I could tell what was tattooed over her left breast. I couldn’t. I might have been able to if it hadn’t been for the glare from all that body oil. Not that she needed it - her headlights were already on high beam.
Anyway, back to Charm School. Flavor of Love Charm School brings together all of Flav’s rejects where they will vye for the chance to win $50,000 by NOT calling each other names or trying to pull each other’s hair (real or imagined). Some of you (hopefully, many, many of you) may be wondering how hard could that be?
Well, apparently it is very, very hard for people who have been forced to accept improperly spelled nicknames such as “Toasteee” and “Bootz” and “Pumkin.” They’re not even clever misspellings. They’re just lame.That alone would cause me to rebel.
Fortunately, the instructor and taskmaster, Mo’Nique, releases the burden of these lame names first thing. Well, except for Saaphyri. Turns out, that is her real name.
I like Mo’Nique. She knows unreality when she sees it and doesn’t hesitate to say things like, “Baby, that’s your real name?” then rip her name tag off anyway and throw it into the fire. Now that’s keepin it real.
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gettin down with Girlfriends
Actually, it’s the Girlfriends’ boyfriends who need to be getting their act together here. If you haven’t seen Girlfriends, it’s kind of a black Sex in the City. So last night, the girls get together for a dinner party, and the conversation turns to who the guys think is a “10.” The consensus is that it’s Halle Berry. No surprise there. It’s no surprise either, that after everybody leaves, Joan asks her boyfriend what he would rate her.Uh oh.
Foolishly, he tries to answer the question literally, which was, of course, the last thing he should have done. Actually, that’s not true, but we’ll get to that later.
So Joan’s boyfriend says she’s a 7. Like many women, Joan can’t believe that he’d rate her that high. How can she be a 7, if Halle Berry is a 10? Surely she’s not that good, she says. And then like an idiot, he AGREES, and downgrades her rating from a 7 to a 5. Naturally, this doesn’t go over well because Joan didn’t want an honest answer here.
Sensing he’s made a mistake, he upgrades her - to a 5 and a half. Now, I realize this is television, and they’ve got to move the plot along with these little conflicts, and the episode wouldn’t have gone anywhere without it. And of course, it’s entirely true. That’s exactly what most men would have done.
But in case you’re a man, and you think you might someday be in this position, and I think you probably will - here’s the answer.
“You’re an 11.” Or 10 is fine. Just don’t say anything over 12, because she’ll know you’re just trying to get her off your back. Better yet, preface it with an endearment, like “Baby, you’re an 11.” That should stop any further questions. But if the “But I’m not as beautiful as (insert No. 10’s name here)” question follows, just say “You are to me.” or “I think so.” or “That’s crazy talk.”
It’s that simple.
The last thing a man should do when asked this question is to say “I don’t know,” or refuse to answer. It’s like saying her ranking is somewhere in the negative numbers. Even if it’s true, and you can’t bring yourself to “lie,” picture Halle Berry as a 10 on the Celsius scale and use the Fahrenheit scale to rate your sweetie. Believe me, it’s better that way.
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Mayberry Misses
Ever wonder why, of all the women Sheriff Andy Taylor dated, he picked Helen? I was making a pass through the self-help/relationship area of the bookstore the other day and when I saw one entitled “Why Men Love B**.” I was sure there would be a chapter on the mystique of Helen Crump. There wasn’t. I guess there are some things that just can’t be explained.
Freedom through television
Responder “John” says that if I kill my television, I will free my mind. Well, I have to disagree, wholeheartedly. Not only does television free my mind, it does a very thorough job of it. I rarely have a serious thought while watching television, which is why I watch television in the first place. I want to be totally and completely disengaged from reality, because let’s face it - reality is pretty depressing stuff. I don’t watch anything that contains depressing, scary or angry people, but that’s not a problem for me, since I get enough news and politics during the day, through legitimate means. So John, trust me if you want your mind to be truly free, turn on the television.
Alas, poor Yorick
You know Michael C. Hall well, or at least better than I.
You’re right. Michael C. Hall is the gay brother. Peter Krause is the one I was thinking of. Actually, I believe I was confusing him with Anthony Michael Hall, who is not to be confused with Michael J. Fox.
Six feet under, six seasons behind
I really like this show, except for the fact that I spend most of my time wondering what’s going on. Or rather, what’s been going on since I saw it last. First show, the mom is newly widowed. Next show, she’s got a boyfriend. Next show, she’s got a crush on some young guy. Now she’s married to some guy named George. Where did he come from? And the character Michael J. Hall plays - he’s engaged to one girl. Next time I see the show, he’s married and has a kid. Next show, I pick up hints that the wife is now dead. Last night, I find out he’s dead and the first girl he was engaged to is having his baby and apparently there was some hanky-panky with the first wife, whom I thought was dead. Anybody got a Ouija board?
