Wed., February 16, 2000
Wedded Bliss
I did something I probably shouldn't have done last night.
I know it's not good for me. I know it's degrading to women. I know it's a publicity stunt. I know it was all concocted purely for February sweeps.
I know. I know. I know.
But I just had to watch.
I had to.
"Who Wants to Marry a Muli-millionaire?" was on last night. I'm sure you've probably heard about it. The premise is a Multi-Millionaire lets Fox television round up 50 women for him to pick a wife from. This to be done on live television with no one getting to see the man until the end when he proposes.
How bizarre.
So yesterday, at work, we're talking about the upcoming broadcast. A coworker turns to me and says, "Don't you find that degrading? It's like throwing women back a few hundred years..."
And I'm like, why? These women have a choice. They WANT to do this. It's their choice to compete on stage in front of an audience for a man with swim suits and silly multiple-choice questions.
And, honestly, I find that downright funny.
Hilarious.
Facinating.
I watched the entire show last night with the same expression on my face that happens to me when I watch Cops or Judge Judy. I know it's not good for me, but I can't turn away. Junk food for the mind. These shows always leave me wondering, "who are these people?"
I wonder about Contestant A. Why is she there? Is she that desperate for money? For a man? For marriage? Where does she work? What does her boss think? What do her co-workers think? Are they cheering her on at home? Making fun of her? And how will she show up to work the next day when she doesn't win? Is she embarrassed? Was it a good time? Is she a little bit relieved?
50 women appear on stage from all over the country. They span in ages from 19 to 45. Most are dressed in black. And none will get to see Mr. Millionaire until the end when he comes out to propose with his 3-carat diamond ring. As for the audience, we don't get to seem him either. He just sits behind a TV screen in his souped-up hi-tec cube. His position oddly reminded me of the director in The Truman Show. Very god-like and omnipotent, judging over the flock.
My eyes were glued to the screen for the majority of the show. I only turned away once at 8:00 when Will & Grace came one. I came back prompty a half-hour later.
The 50 had been narrowed down to 5. The remaining women were dressed eerily in their fitted wedding gowns. They reminded me of a very bad dream. One where you're dumped at the alter in front of millions and you know you're dress is worth more than you paid for your car. This is your dream dress, your dream day and there you stand in the spotlight wondering what in the hell you are doing and you can't leave because Fox executives are guarding the doors and although the prospect of being rich and taken care of sounds nice, you can't help but feel you've made some sort of pact with the devil and no matter what kind of regrets you are now having, you have already made the pack, the devil's showing up on your doorstep at midnight and you didn't even get chosen. Your the devil's reject and the world is watching. And your mom is just so very disappointed in you.
What? You've never had that dream?
But I digress...
At 10 minutes til nine, Mr. Millionaire finally emerges. He's not bad looking, but not that great either. He kneals before his intended. Puts the ring on her shakey finger.
Five minutes later they are married and rose petals are floating down from the rafters while the audience is cheering and some crappy top-forty ballad starts to play.
And then the most uncomfortable moment of the evenings occurs. Mr. Millionaire plants a kiss on his new wife's lips and I'm, like, "YUCK!" They haven't even seen each other for five minutes and they're kissing! I swear I saw tongue!
I then speculate if they will have sex following the ceremony.
Man, if I were her, I'd have to get loaded.
As the credits were rolling, the married couple danced. I swear I read Mr. Millionaire's lips when he mouthed, "I'm so happy" to his new bride.
How do you know you're happy?
HOW DO YOU KNOW?
It's was such a bizzarre evening. Some sort of surreal dream. And I'm amazed that these people participated. And for whatever reasons they had for being there, all I know is that I found it all very,
very,
entertaining.
When you live in a sick world, you might as well gawk at the sickos.
At least that's my philosphy. What's yours?
questions, comments, email me at heather@funnymoods.com |
