Last night something occured to me, and it was sort of an epiphany. I was watching The Biggest Loser when I had this revelation. Now, I love The Biggest Loser because 1) I am not as overweight as any of the contestants, and 2)I find it inspiring, the way they work so hard. (It's perverse, but I like to eat while I watch the show - ice cream, a few cookies, whatever. Things that Jillian would yell in my face for.)
Anyhoo, the revelation was this: just how low my viewing standards have gotten. Growing up as a kid, I liked watching National Geographic, where nature was displayed in all it's glory. A little later I enjoyed watching The Partridge Family and The Brady Bunch, where suburban family dramas (or family-band dramas) were played out in just half an hour. As a teen I liked Dallas, a show where oil tycoons waged corporate war while ther wives had affairs and sported extremely big hair. A little older, in my late twenties, I liked the show Thirtysomething, a hip yet complex look at work, marriage, and raising kids. Then on to Kevin James' show The King of Queens, where an Average Joe life of a delivery driver was celebrated in all it's hilarity and realness.
Now, I like to watch people weight themselves. That passes for enertainment now in my life.
What the heck?? I mean, it is a great show, and can be inspiring, but it basically is a lot of people weighing themselves; that's a good bit of the show right there. Stepping on a scale. And I am as fascinated by it as if it were complex brain surgery or a travelogue of someone's trip to China. How much will they weigh? Did their weight go up, heaven forbid? Did they take full advantage of the Last-Chance Work-out? Will they feel discouraged, or will they battle on?
Oh brother. Welcome to America and reality tv; we just can't get enough of watching other people triumph - and fail.