I don’t know about the rest of the civilized world, but we’re sick and tired of reality shows. We don’t watch much television, but after a busy day, we sometimes turn it on for a bit of relaxation. That’s probably not a good idea, as it seems like this is the time of night when all the crazy reality shows hit the satellite dish. I have a sneaking suspicion that Hubby and I are not the only ones that are fed up with this turn of events. I thought the purpose of television shows was to help us escape reality, not remind us of it.
Obviously Hubby and I must be pretty normal, since no one has knocked on our door offering big bucks to film our lives for national television. We aren’t addicted to strange things, like chewing tape or smelling mothballs or picking our scabs, so that rules out that kind of programming for us. We are too honest and scared to try and smuggle anything across the border. Looking though jail bars for twenty years is just not an option.
Hubby hates the hoarding shows, and refuses to watch them. He doesn’t realize that he is really benefiting from it in an indirect way. Usually after I watch an episode or two of “Hoarding, Buried Alive”, I am highly motivated to jump up and start a cleaning frenzy. Nooks and crannies that have been untouched for months get a good going over with the trusty Pinesol and a rag, making sure there are no cockroaches or other unsavory creatures lurking there.
“Survivor” has been around for years, and now they are bringing back the previous losers. They always have this show in a tropical country where it is nice and warm, and we get to see the skimpy little bits of clothing the younger girls wear. This show should be filmed in a Canadian winter situation, with a family that has been cooped up in the house for six months in a raging blizzard.
If you want reality, you can get a glimpse of an amazing race at our house when the flu hits. It’s amazing that we make it to the can in time and it is certainly filled with suspense. We have our own storage issues. If we find an old catchers mitt, it’s exactly what it is, an old mitt, not Yogi Berra’s glove that’s worth a million bucks. That’s where the war comes in, I want to get rid of it and Hubby thinks it’s worth money. (Those shows just corrupt his sense of monetary value)
There is one show that captures our attention, and oddly enough, keeps us glued to our seats for the entire time. I’m speaking of the “Antiques Road Show”. This is the program where items are appraised by real experts, and the owners are so surprised at the value, that their jaws drop to their knees. The other side of the coin, reflects the people who have brought grandma’s antique gravy boat hoping to hear it’s worth a fortune ,only to find out it’s worthless. This is what I call a genuine reality show. You win some, you lose some, but it’s always entertaining. Now I’ve got to get back to my own reality, those dirty dishes in the sink. Maybe today, I’ll turn on the radio for entertainment. 🙂
Author Val Enders resides in Spruce Grove, Alberta. She married her high school sweetheart, Richard, and they’ve been together for over 40 years. Val doesn’t consider herself a writer by profession, rather she writes more for her own enjoyment. An accomplished artist, Val’s a member of the Allied Arts Council of Spruce Grove. Visit Val’s “Journey Into Art” website at www.vals.webs.com
Hey there Val.
I have to admit it, I’m a picker, scabs, woollen articles with a small hole, I can pick the arm out a jumper in no time flat. I used to drive my Mother mad when I was a boy. But you are better off with the radio than all those rubbish TV shows.
Boy, I don’t even listen to the radio anymore unless it’s in the car. Lately I don’t even want to listen to the news, because there are so many whackjobs out there that feel they need to blow up people and things. Cartoons, that’s my choice of material tv wise. I’m getting a good start on my second childhood. lol