This was surreal! I just flipped on my TV the other night, just as my daughter Ashley called me. The channel was on ABC, the show currently running was The Bachelor. As I was engaged with Ashley I turned the sound off, to continue my conversation with her.
I will admit, I did watch a few of these Bachelor and Bachelorette series when then they first aired. They never held my interest, so I went back to watching The Weather Channel. Okay folks, you have to do it. Watch the Rose Ceremony with the sound off! You will capture the true essence of human emotion. Ten million weekly viewers can't be wrong; I researched it, yes ten million sets of voyeuristic eyes, watching this for fourteen seasons; since the series' inception in 2002.
For those that do not know, the premise of The Bachelor is this: One eligible bachelor gets to pick one lucky little filly, from 25 or 30, beautiful, not a pound over-weight, non-acned, young, fertile and reasonably coherent women; pretty well made up, sporting longer than shoulder length hair dos and outfits they would not normally be able to afford. After I think eight episodes, he eliminates all but one lucky dream girl that is likely good marriage stock.
Okay, back to the Rose Ceremony sans audio input. This season's Bachelor, Brad Womack, recycled from a past episode, is the eligible guy. Near the end of each show he has a silver tray of red roses. The number of roses are less than every dwindling number of, already have fallen in love with Brad, ready to settle down and get hitched, little honeys. Assisted by ex-game show host Chris Harrison, standing, facing this bevy of beauties, he asks his latest selected list, one-at-time--called by name to step forward, if they will accept a rose. Getting a rose means you get to play for another week! This takes a LONG TIME. With no sound I watched, the face wrenching, lip pouting, tear welling, blood pressure rising expressions of these Brad loving women. My respiration quickened, I explained to Ashley what was going on; which girls where going to get CUT? Sensing my empathy for these poor young women; all under 30, Ashley said we could pick our conversation up later.
I said goodbye to Ashley, turned the sound back on, to capture the beauty of the remaining rose recipients stepping up one at a time as Brad called them, saying; "--insert name-- will you accept this rose?" The winners would all exchange a kiss with Brad and say something like, "yes," "absolutely" or a good old Sarah Palin "you betcha!"
Down to one last Rose and with perhaps a good half dozen, now panicked contenders remaining, the facial pain and anguish was almost unbearable to watch! Now that the last rose has been accepted and the losers all get to say goodbye to Brad, ONE AT A LONG TIME, he tells each one he is sorry that he has kicked them through the "goal posts of life!" Now the camera follows each broken hearted, on the way to her therapist, young woman to her Limo, whisked away into the California sunset.
Now Brad, who most of these women wouldn't give the time of day to in your local singles bar; gets to spend another week of dating, hugging, kissing and forging possible life long relationship with; deciding who will not make the cut on the next show.
Back to The Weather Channel for me. The mid-west blizzard is a little more my speed.
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