In Which I Explore My Hatred For Dancing With The Stars Via Good Morning America and Keeping Up With The Kardashians
I switched from The Today Show to Good Morning America about a year and a half ago and I haven’t looked back. Besides wanting to bone Matt Lauer long and hard, everyone else on that show brought me nothing but grief. Watching Anne Curry repeatedly lube up her nose to shove up Angelina Jolie’s butthole got pretty tiresome and after they did a follow-up on that idiot Paul Karason who turned blue after he willingly prescribed himself colloidal silver, it wasn’t long before I was switching the channel.
As of recently I had no issues with Good Morning America. Robin Roberts is pleasant, George Stephanopoulos is harmless, Juju Chang is funny, and Sam Champion is just a weather-loving homo. Their “news coverage” doesn’t seem to bother me either. It’s typical morning television - family recipes and back-to-school deals and fundamental financial advice - perfect for background noise as I get ready for my rigorous stressful totally boring day at work.
But God dammit, Good Morning America, if you aren’t grinding my gears. For it’s the return of Dancing With The Stars and as the most popular show on your network, you are obligated to remind me everyday.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve hated Dancing With The Stars with the fire of eleven suns. The moment I first heard about the show I was all, “Oh, okay, I fucking hate that idea and will never watch it and neither will anyone else because it’s not 1976 and no one misses variety shows.” But then people went fucking crazy. People lost their God damn minds. Every homepage, every water cooler, every hair salon blew up. “Did you guys see the finale last night? The guy that used to be in 98 Degrees won!”
I soak up bad reality TV like it’s my job (some of it I do actually watch at my job). Dlisted is one of my top bookmarks and I allow myself to indulge in an In Touch magazine from time to time. I’m a pop culture magpie but Dancing With The Stars has never once appealed to me. After shaking my head when hearing the new lineup this morning, I couldn’t help but wonder: Why can I tolerate repeat episodes of Kim Kardashian getting a manicure but the moment Kate Gosselin starts practicing the Pasodoble I need to leave the room?
First of all, let’s talk about the fact that America suddenly gives a shit about dancing. According to the rest of the world, we’re overweight, lazy, ignorant, and isolated. We’re either sitting on a pile of money in a big yankee high rise sticking our nose up at the poor or we’re driving down Route 66 in our pick-up trucks drinking beer carrying a shot gun on our way to wrangle some immigrants. We hate soccer when the rest of the world goes nuts for it. We are literally the only people still using imperial units and while every other first world country is enjoying universal healthcare, we’re still going bankrupt after emergency appendectomies like a bunch of retards. Since we practically pooh-pooh almost every seemingly-radical-but-actually-passe foreign ideology including same-sex marriage, why is America so enamored with a television show that is so fucking gay?
Also, these people are crappy dancers. I like to watch people do what they’re good at. Watching someone do what they excel in is usually enjoyable for everyone involved. Why do you think people like professional football games, going to concerts and The Maury Show? The same reason people prefer medicated Paula Abdul over sober Paula Abdul - she does it right. So forgive me when I have a hard time understanding why all of America thinks Dancing With The Stars is so fucking amusing when none of the people are dancers. Would you watch a bunch of babies in a grilling competition? No. They don’t have teeth and can’t even wipe themselves, why would you watch them cook a steak? Sorry when I say watching Buzz Aldrin bumble around the dance floor makes me not only terribly bored, but also worried for his health. He’s like 99 years old and went to the motherfucking moon. Let’s just let that be his thing so he can die in peace rather than next to Tom Bergeron.
And I bet you’re expecting me to explore the obvious fact that the people they enlist to be on this show are usually obsolescent to the point where I would pick a different check-out line in the grocery store if they were in front of me so I wouldn’t have to deal with the cashier trying to place them. Instead I’m going to talk about their salaries. The funniest part about researching this essay besides the fact that I researched this essay is the fact that I thought these “stars” were earning this money for charity. Oh, you did too? You thought there might be some kind of legal clause in life somewhere stating that if you were already rich and famous once that you could only appear on dancing reality shows if the money earned was given to a charitable organization? NAY, my friends. NAY! According to Wikipedia, on the past season of Dancing With The Stars, “all celebrities received a base of $200,000; the winner received an additional $100,000 and celebrities who placed second and third received additional payments of $50,000 and $25,000 respectively.” That’s right - Drew Lachey, “that guy from 98 Degrees,” won over a quarter million dollars to dance like a neophyte for ten weeks. I can’t say I won’t go Heaven’s Gate on myself if Bristol Palin walks out of that studio with $300,000.
So I don’t know, Good Morning America. Since you interview every single contestant that goes on, gets kicked off, or comes within ten feet of the soundstage of what I have proven to be a trash dump of a television program, I might have to bid you adieu. Maybe it’s back to The Today Show to watch Meredith Viera blunder through the cue cards again. Or maybe I’ll sew up my vagina, apply for an AARP card, and start watching CBS. Or perhaps I’ll uncover some 7am Keeping Up With The Kardashian reruns - at least they’re good at getting manicures.
