I have recently been watching a lot of reality television. Too much, in fact. And it only seems to get worse. Every network, it seems, has a spate of new reality TV shows, and each one seems to feed off more and more low-level bottom feeders. I say this knowing full-well that I am not the cream of society, but neither am I the obviously disturbed individuals that appear on these shows.
Take, for instance, “Work of Art: The Next Great Artist” currently showing on BRAVO. This show touts itself as venue to discover the up and coming (more on that later!) artists. I found some of the early challenges intriguing, dealing with creating book cover art, using different media, etc. Then the “shocking” challenge happened. Create a piece of art that is shocking. And the one that won was amazing. Titled “I. E. D. (Improvised Explosive Device)” it featured three heads, mounted to a board. The heads depicted young black men, and the heads were also depicted a bombs, symbolizing the explosive tendencies that can occur in inner city youth. Unfortunately, most of the “shocking” art tended toward the sexual. And it was not so much shocking as disgusting, including what I consider the most vile entry, a drawing of writhing bodies in the iconic shape of Mickey Mouse’s head with the added touch of the artist’s, (who shall I say this…) … well, let’s just say that he REALLY likes his own art work. (If that isn’t clear to you, you’re better off, frankly.) And then again this week, the winners were a pair of artists, including the above mentioned jerk (no pun intended), and again it was a very sexual thing. Now, I know a few professional artists, and art is not all about sexuality. In fact most art has nothing to do with sexuality, or sex, or debasing yourself on a piece of canvas. Work of Art is a piece of garbage. And if it weren’t for the few who seem to take the idea of making art into “let’s see how this will shake up middle America…” it might not have to be.
And don’t get me started on the whole “Real Housewives of [insert city here]” thing! I will freely admit to having been hooked on the New York City housewives (a broad term, to be sure). This season was one that almost made me ashamed to admit to watching it. I have not really followed the Orange County wives, and just had no real interest in the Atlanta version. I absolutely refused to watch even one minute of the New Jersey crowd, and can only say from what I’ve seen of the ads, Thank Goodness!! A bigger bunch of insane women could not have been put together on one show. And frankly they make the Sopranos look like a quilting bee.
Now I don’t hate all reality TV. Top Chef, Project Runway, Last Comic Standing are all fun to watch. I have never been able to get into That Damned Karaoke Show (excuse me, American Idol). Just seems like a bunch of fluff, and after the whole Sanjaya thing, they lost me totally.
On a different note, I found a blog of someone who follows my blog, and it is a real treat. “~A New Me~” is a wonderful blog about one woman’s fight to lose her extra weight. Very fun to read, and inspiring. Makes this blog look like a joke. ;-)
Anyway, my battle goes on unabated. Or as unabated as it can be when I’m not really making all that great an effort at it right now. My efforts are not organized, nor am I really following any plan. I try to limit my portions, and limit binges and late night scarfing, but that really doesn’t do the trick. I know that weight loss is not easy. If it was, I wouldn’t be writing this blog. And I know that there are no end of fiends who would help if I just asked. But when you know how much you have to lose (over 200 lbs.) and you know what it is that people see when they look at you (because as much as you try not to look at yourself in the mirror, when you do even you are shocked) asking for that help can be very hard. You have to admit to the lifestyle that you’ve let yourself slip into to get like this. You have to admit that you don’t have the personal willpower to overcome this on your own. You have to admit that you are essentially a weak individual. And when you have such a powerful ego, admitting all that can be very hard. Even as I’m writing this, I know it sounds self-serving to say. I know that it also sounds pretty maudlin. And that’s not a label I like to apply to myself. When I was younger (so much younger than today), I never needed anybody’s help in any way (Sorry, Paul). I was a happy kid. I made other people happy (I think) and had fun. I’ve lost my sense of fun, or at least part of it. That happens to us all. We grow up, we get married, have kids. What was once a life of living in the moment has to evolve into caring for the future. I don’t regret that. I regret not keeping part of that sense of wonder at the little moments. I’ve let myself get so bogged down in my depression and my “trials” that I haven’t kept that sense of wonder. As I think I’ve said in past posts, I can poke as much fun at myself as anyone. And I am not too proud to look like the fool. Hey, I do plenty of that without even trying. But somewhere along the line, I lost my sense of wonder. I’m trying to get it back, and little by little I think it’s coming. But it’s hard. Just like losing weight.
Today’s quote:
“We are all dietetic sinners; only a small percent of what we eat nourishes us; the balance goes to waste and loss of energy. ~William Osler”
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