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EATS &
ENTERTAINMENT
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January 30, 2008
Food Network Is For
Me: All Other Reality TV Can Bite Me!
By Cindy Droog
Here’s the
thing with reality television: I’ve tried it, but I just can’t relate.
This week
marks new episodes of nearly all the reality series that I’ve attempted
to watch. First, there’s “Celebrity Rehab”, VH1’s foray into the
favorite place of all the hot stars – rehabilitation. Of course, as with
all of VH1’s attempts at these shows, the term “celebrity” is clearly a
loose one. I mean, when was the last time you thought about Kenickie
from “Grease”?
Their
definition of famous aside, it’s not that I haven’t lived through the
painful process of watching a loved one beat addiction. I have. But the
fact that someone would allow cameras during such a personal experience
has me baffled. When my family went through this, I don’t even think I
told my best friend.
Then,
there’s “The Academy”, in which recruits go through training to become
Los Angeles County sheriffs. I thought I’d enjoy the show, but instead,
it gives me a guilt complex that all I had to do to get my job was one
phone interview and two face-to-facers. And I didn’t get yelled at,
sworn at or physically exhausted during any one of them.
“The
Biggest Loser” is always a “flipper,” meaning when I bypass it, I tend
to stop for a few minutes. But I always keep going. Maybe it’s because
any one of those contestants could actually consume me, at 110 pounds,
as a meal. So I feel guilty watching them struggle to shed what equates
to an entire limb for me on a weekly basis.
I tried “Miami INK”,
too. My brother has 15 tattoos. I, on the other hand, have zero. I
thought watching the show might bring us a little closer, helping me
understand the strong emotional ties some people have to events and
symbols – strong enough to emblazon them on their bodies while they
scream in pain. Instead, both times I watched, I got depressed thinking
of a couple my husband and I were friends with for many years. For their
10th anniversary, they got matching tattoos. For their 13th
anniversary, they got a divorce.
Of course, there are
always the competitions like “American Idol” and “Project Runway” to
rely on for mild entertainment. But my own singing has been known to
bring dorm-mates knocking, begging me to stop. And my fashion sense has
actually been described by a friend of mine as “black hides everything,
so she guesses she shouldn’t stray.”
On Sunday
night, I watched “Extreme Home Makeover”. It almost had me. I was close
to developing my own un-Kenickie like addiction. But ABC’s airing a
commercial every 2.5 minutes completely killed the mood. I begrudgingly
flipped back to election coverage.
To me, the only
truly juicy reality television is on the Food Network. Now, here’s
something I can relate to. Eating. In fact, I do it every single day.
Sometimes fast and furious. Think: “Oh crap, I forgot my lunch on
deadline day.” Other times, it’s slow and romantic. “What? Both kids
went to bed at 7:00? Let’s start things in the kitchen, baby!” Sometimes
it’s at home. Sometimes it’s on the road. And so it is on this network.
So, I TiVo episodes
of “Diners”, “Drive-ins and Dives” and faithfully watch
“$40 a Day”. I wouldn’t travel to a new city without first checking the
Food Network’s web site to see if these hosts have been there first and
can help me pinch my pocketbook and tantalize my taste buds.
My favorite is
“Unwrapped”, which gives me the story behind the things I feed my
diaper-clad kids every day, like peanut butter or cereal. It’s good to
know where these things come from, especially because I get to see
firsthand where they end up.
I eat three times a
day. I don’t enter rehab, deal with police officers, put art on my
shoulder blade instead of my wall or allow millions of people to watch
me shop for new throw pillows, sing or get dressed. I do realize,
however, that if I get too into The Food Network, I definitely won’t be
watching “The Biggest Loser”. I’ll be starring in it.
© 2008 North Star Writers
Group. May not be republished without permission.
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