I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Now c’mon, don’t tell me you weren’t just a little suspicious of that nut job judge in Florida, Larry Seidlin, who sobbed and stammered through his decision about the final disposition of Anna Nicole Smith’s remains a few months ago. Yep, you heard it here first or, well OK, maybe fourth. Seidlin, the State Court judge who was stupendously unprofessional during the Anna Nicole Smith court proceedings, has been signed by CBS Television Distribution to do a “Judge Judy” type show. Nicknamed the “Cry-Baby Judge” for apparent good reason, Seidlin retires from the Florida state circuit court bench July 31. Apparently, His Extreme High Honorable-ness wants to spend more time with his, um … family. Hold onto your remote controls, people – if the blubbering gets out of hand, jump to Maury Povich – pronto!
In other news, Paris may be out of the pokey, but is this really the last we will hear from the Hilton hottie? Ya gotta love MSNBC anchor, Mika Brzezinski, who recently refused to read a lead news story detailing the heiress’s release from jail saying, “We’ve (journalists) gone too far and we’ve got to stop.” Whether it was a stunt or true frustration, Ms. Brzezinski alternately attempted to light the script on fire, wadded its pages into a ball that she hurled at her associate and when the thing boomeranged back, finished it off by feeding it through a paper shredder. Looks like somebody out there finally gets it that we’re up to here with what Paris wore in prison, what she ate (or didn’t eat), and her prison “art:” a self-portrait of breath-taking realism (not!) depicting Girlfriend in prison attire tuned to CNN, the same network where she scooted for a scintillating interview a day after her prison break, er … release. As for me, friends, this is the last time I will waste space by depositing the name “Paris Hilton” into this column. Unless she does something, well, mind-blowing.
But even stellar TV offerings such as these can’t take the edge off all the summer reality series shoved down our collective throats this year. Is it just me or did programmers dive to the metaphorical bottom of the TV barrel to create ever more bizarre and mindless reality fodder? And it’s all served up with a heavy-handed dose of over-the-top promos geared to drum up audience enthusiasm when, frankly, there just ain’t none!
I mean, do we really care if Joe Blow can remember song lyrics? The answer must be yes because there are two – count ’em: two! – new summer series that don’t care if a person can sing satisfactorily, only whether they remember the lyrics. Oh, please. “Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader” isn’t humiliating enough? Now they’re dumbing it further down to see if we’re smarter than, say, a goldfish. OK, I admit, I enjoy true talent competitions because they require some, well, talent. So where did we go wrong, people? Compared to regular season programming where series like “Lost” and “24” contain an actual storyline and some decent writing, come summertime we fall into a telecast wilderness.
Speaking of wilderness, Discovery’s “Planet Earth” is excellent, and if you search around a bit, it’s possible to find some decent programming, even in the summer. Of course summer is a good time to ditch the tube altogether and enjoy the great outdoors, unless we’re in the midst of a raging heat wave, in which case I have only enough energy to hit the Power button on my remote.
You’re probably asking yourself, “So why do these lame-o reality shows continue to litter the airwaves?” The answer is simple: Money. Reality TV is cheap to produce and generates truck loads of money from advertisers paying big bucks to promote products on a show they hope will be the next break out hit. It’s the shotgun approach – throw everything out there and see what sticks. Personally, though, I believe “the suits” in broadcast development are smack dab out of ideas and getting desperate. So if watching an English woman discipline obnoxious little munchkins isn’t your cup of tea, I’ve come up with a few surefire reality show hits to add to the mix. For example:
World Wide Wrestling Withdrawal. In this fast-paced thriller, “Mom” hides the remote from “Dad” who, in a sports-deprived frenzy, rips apart the sofa cushions looking for the clicker. The wife with the biggest demolition of the rumpus room wins a kitchen mini make-over from Oprah’s cute designer guy.
Hey, Moron, You Cut Me Off! Contestants’ automobiles are equipped with power spray paint guns mounted to the front bumper. When Teddy Testosterone veers violently in front of a contestant’s vehicle, players let ‘er rip. Cameras portray in slow mo the amazing Technicolor redo of the bad boy’s rear end. Er … of his vehicle. Extra points are earned if the guy who cuts in has a “Mullet” hairstyle.
I Can See Your Floor! Moms of teens “trick” their offspring into picking up their clothes. Strategies include, “Sweetie, bring me a couple of your T-shirts and some underwear, would ya? Dad caught his head in the power mower and I need to stop the bleeding.” When the unsuspecting teen runs from his room carting armfuls of clothes, the camera crew is standing by. Before the kid knows he’s been had, the contestant shouts, “HaHaHaHa – I can see your floor!”
Fast Food Fun Follies. In this tastefully clever game, contestants head for the drive-through. The goal is to purchase fast food to bring home and serve up in appetizing ways that in no way reveals the ingredients originated as fast food. Exciting dining possibilities include Cold Cream of Big Mac Soup and Tossed Curly Fry Salad. The contestant whose family is clueless the longest before guessing that Mom’s Mountain of Apple Pie originated as fast food wins a night at Chuck E. Cheese.
So there you have it, folks: exciting concepts ripe for reality TV development. And if these inspirations make it to the airwaves, don’t thank me. Just send truck loads of money.
Gale Hammond is a writer and freelance photographer who has lived in Morgan Hill 24 years. Reach her at Ga*********@*ol.com.
