Am I the only one . . .

. . . who is sick to death of "reality" TV? The ladies on The View were discussing the season finale of The Bachelor this morning. Apparently the bloke finished bleeping his way through the 25 or so contestants and actually chose one to propose to. Whoopie was bleeped during a comment about the chosen one and Joy Behar said that, upon receiving the engagement ring, the contestant was so surprised that she "dropped her calculator."

Now I ask you, where is the reality in a young man tramping (literally) through 25 girls in a matter of nine weeks and finding the love of his life, the woman he wants to spend the rest of with? Saw a few comments on people.com and I'm amazed at how many people say these two are "perfect for each other" and will, no doubt, have a lasting relationship. Lasting? Isn't she about 22 years old? With life spans as they are now that would mean about sixty years. Can a man who chooses from 25 women in nine weeks be expected to spend sixty years with one? Her odds, I would say, are much better for this since she didn't mind "sharing" with the others in order to reach her goal. And was becoming engaged REALLY her goal? Or was she just in for the TV exposure that the rest of her illustrious acting family doesn't get anymore?

Bact to the subject of reality. "Survivor" assured us that a somewhat diverse group of people could be dumped on a tropical island, watched over from afar (or maybe not so far) and would have to survive on only their wits, tenacity, and a helicopter to rescue them from harm. Very realistic; I do that all the time. Would the losers be called "non-survivors," or "dead?" Seems like that's what the newspapers call most of the non-survivors of our daily reality. No, au contraire, they can go on to marry NFL players, have their babies, and make millions spouting their pro-Republican views on daytime TV.

Then there was "The Osbournes." Or more recently "Hogan Knows Best." People in the Tampa Bay area in particular are laughing up their sleeves at that one. A short bald man that wrestles for a living and is raising(?) his family in a $5 million dollar house on the Gulf of Mexico -- now THAT'S reality. What we didn't see on the screen was the reality of Terry Bollea (yeah, that's his real, but not reality, name) ruining his marriage by having an affair with his daughter's best friend. We caught a couple of glimpses, if we watched carefully, of Terry treating his son like a peer, teaching him about fast, expensive cars and slow, expensive women instead of instilling some positive values to prepare him for adult life. I would propose this for a reality show: "Nick Bollea Survives 8 Months in Prison." Guess that one could only air on HBO what with the inevitable dropping of the soap in the shower.

How about some REAL REALITY? No, I don't think that is redundant. Not based on the networks' ideas of "reality." How about following a single mother around trying to raise a couple of kids? We could watch her morning routine with the kiddies, follow her to the office and see what she does to earn her couple of hundred dollars. We could accompany her to the grocery store and watch her agonize over how to stretch the food stamps while trying to provide nutritious food for her babies. Hopefully we won't see her kidnapped, raped and murdered because she has to hitchhike everywhere due to high gas prices.

The way I see it, there are many untested opportunities for the networks to capitalize on in reality TV. How about watching a family disintegrate as the father becomes unemployed and the house goes into foreclosure and they all have to move into the SUV? I would personally tune into a show where Hillary, Barack and old what's-his-name give away their campaign funds to help the poor, but then that's not reality.

This is one topic on which I could blabber forever, but right now it's time for me to get back to my own reality. And BTW, I say the football player is the next dancer eliminated, how about you?