SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF...THIS?

By: B -- 9/15/05

To be seen in November 2005 issue of Industry Magazine

You know, I never actually learned the true definition of the American Dream. I recall it having something to do with starting your own business…or owning a piece of land…maybe becoming prosperous through good old fashioned hard work… something along those lines. Like I said, I never found out what the actual Dream was supposed to entail.

It doesn’t matter what the original American Dream used to be though, because my generation has apparently settled on a new version: starring in a reality TV show. Reality television gives hope to a once-unrecognized people; the poor, the chunky, the dim-witted, the Heartland-bred – every citizen in America is just one accepted application away from becoming the next reality television star. So as far as dreams go, this one’s pretty good.

Most folks point out Kelly Clarkson or Bill Rancic as an example of a talented, yet unheard of person becoming a celebrity solely due to the advent of reality television. These reality show heroes are great, and I’m proud of them, and they’re definitely living a dream, yada yada yada… but it’s not the American dream. Talented folks such as Clarkson and Rancic had to work hard to win their respective reality shows. And since when is hard work part of an American’s dream? Not my America.

No, the people living the real American Dream are the Miz’s of the world, the Trischelles and Evan Marriotts and Omarosas. I’m talking about the reality television lifers, an entire class of people rich and famous for no logical reason whatsoever. Talent and hard work are worthless concepts to the reality television lifers. These crazy kids are asked for nothing more than to drink themselves stupid, stay in shape and engage in either fisticuffs or group orgies, whichever they prefer. (The superstars do both.) They jump from show to show, network to network, appearing in anything and everything thrown their way in a desperate attempt to remain in the spotlight.

And the opportunities are almost limitless. The craziest Real Worlders are given a lifetime pass to the always nutso Real World/Road Rules Challenge, a show so crazy that the sanest member of last season’s installment was a plump 35-year-old cowboy who compared himself to Jesus Christ after a challenging task. Losing contestants on The Bachelor are occasionally offered the chance to host their own season, further solidifying their status as The Most Desperate People On Television.

The rest are either offered parts in reunion episodes of their fame-inducing show or “all-star” series such as The Surreal Life, Kill Reality or Battle of the Network Stars. Others simply weasel their way onto every red carpet they can find, proudly waving to a throng of onlookers who rarely even remember how they became famous in the first place. Make no mistake: once someone achieves fame in the reality TV circuit, they can hang on to that fame for a looooooong time.

But I don’t blame them; it’s not like they have any better career alternatives. It blows me away when people refer to these reality TV lifers as classless delinquents abusing their 15 minutes of fame. Think about it: most of these kids are booze-soaked night owls with loose morals, whose greatest skills include a high alcohol tolerance and chiseled abs. I have plenty of friends living the same life as these reality TV stars, only they’re doing it for free.

A reality TV lifer usually has two options: continue starring in TV shows or exit the spotlight to have a go at real life. The first option involves being flown to an exotic location to film the show. They bronze in the sun, booze for free, hang with bombshells (who are usually drunk and/or slutty) and compete for money or prizes, all while being paid for their services. Sounds terrible, right?

The second option involves trying to find an entry-level job in a far less glamorous and sunny locale. It is vital that their perspective employer hasn’t seen that one episode where they puked in their sleep/ got arrested/ wet the bed/ had a threesome with their roommates/ dug their fingers into someone else’s peanut butter, etc. I’ll admit it: if I’d starred in a reality TV show, I’d choose The Real World over the real world any day of the week.

Some refer to these reality TV lifers as losers; I call them fun-loving realists.

Sleep till noon. College (or high school) degree not required. Politeness is unnecessary, listening skills unwanted, table manners downright unwelcome. If there is an American Dream for the 21 st century, these people are living it.

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