For those of us old enough to remember Johnny Carson on television (I was YOUNG!), we fondly remember the spectacle and tragedy that was Television’s Battle of the Network Stars. There was tug-of-war. There was the trapeze act. There were obstacle courses and other circus-like activities that allowed people like Linda Carter and Robert Wagner to strut their stuff and generally make idiots of themselves for publicity. Little has change apparently.
Welcome to a new millenium. The more things change, the more they stay the same. If you want to see the bachelorette, a former playmate and J. Peterman dance with professional dancers, well, you are in luck.
ABC gives us all Dancing with the Stars, a show that pairs pseudo stars from television (yes, Trista was on and has sadly been eliminated) with professional dancers who have sold their soul to promote dancing and their own lack of an acting career.
There are days when television disappoints me. Reality TV (after the Real World season one), broadcast fishing tournaments and Lifetime movies like the Tori Spelling tour de force, Mother, May I Sleep with Danger?, are all tragedies of the small screen.
This is not. Why? Because it sucks so badly, it’s hilarious and that makes me feel all fuzzy inside.