Reality TV Time: Escape to the Country

Posted on by thepoelog

If you are a reasonably cautious person, you are now well into your fifth month of quarantine/self-isolation/stay-at-home/work-from-home-ness. Congratulations on caring not only for your own health, but for your community as a whole.

I’m sure, like most of us, you are hankering for a getaway. Maybe a trip abroad (HA!). Or, slightly more realistically, someplace serene and peaceful, with lots of fresh air and rolling hills dotted with quaint cottages and rustic cabins.

Maybe you yearn to go someplace far from the bustle of urban life full of all these people going out maskless to restaurants and bars and Costco because, in reality, those people are idiots who don’t believe that COVID-19 is real, or at least, not as bad as the media is making it out to be and, goddammit last time they checked, “America was the land of the free and the home of the brave,” and they’re “not going to be told what they can or can’t do,” and by the way, “it’s a proven fact that masks make COVID worse!”

I’m already hyperventilating. I feel you. I, too, wish to escape. In fact, a lot of us do, which has given arise to a whole new, back-to-basics aesthetic trend known as cottagecore.

Along those lines, I have found a (very) safe way to give in to that vibe. Let me introduce you to the quarantine viewing wonder that is the BBC One’s “Escape to the Country.”

There is no coronavirus on “Escape to the Country.” Mostly because the only season we seem to be able to track down is Season 22 on Amazon Prime, and, lucky for us, Season 22 was filmed in the quaint olden times of 2014.

I had read that the show was available on Netflix, but I can’t find even one other season, either there or on our YouTube/Roku TV.

The beauty of this program is that it combines the desire to travel abroad (safely) with the yearning for beautiful, peaceful landscapes. In this case, in England. Without leaving your house.

We’ve been watching Season 22 for the last week or so and let me tell you, my heart swells and my stress melts away just hearing the dulcet string instrument intro and watching the camera pan over hills and valleys and dales before settling on a close up of some yellow flower in the field (Is it a daffodil? I think it is).

Nope. Not a daffodil.

The format is a lot like HGTV’s House Hunters, except, decidedly rural: A couple or family is looking to trade in city life for a slower paced life in the country.

Many of the house hunters on the show are also looking for more independence, and want a property that also presents a business opportunity, like a separate apartment or cottage to rent out.

And, they all want properties that combine character and Old World charm with some modern conveniences.

To me, it sounds like a ridiculously tall order. But, literally, in every episode, our hosts of “Escape to the Country” deliver, offering up two properties that fit the bill (and, unlike many house hunting shows, actually come in around or under the couple’s stated budget).

They also offer up a third “mystery property,” that challenges the home hunters to think outside of the box. Sometimes that’s like, a church conversion, or a huge property with lots of outbuildings and barns waiting to be converted into apartments or rental units, or a miniature airplane modeling and sales studio (that was the stated professional goal of one of the gentlemen house hunters in a recent episode).

After a walk through each property, the house hunters meet up with the host and give their best guesses on how much the property is on the market for. Then the host reveals the actual price, which, again, is usually under budget or very near the top but almost never over.

At the end of two days of looking at the three properties, the house hunters sit down with the host and tell them which property was their favorite and what they’re next steps will be.

The houses are charming and sometimes quirky or historic (I now know exactly what a snug room is and am thisclose to demanding we buy an AGA range), there’s a little local history lesson in each episode, the hosts are gentle, patient and helpful. The cinematography is gorgeous. It’s a great, great show.

My only quibble is that Brits are just too cautious for my taste. They almost never agree to just put an offer in on one of the houses! They always say they’re going to do some more research about the village or the area and visit the property again. Even in instances where they’ve already sold their own city homes and only have like, a month for find something. They’re just so timid!

It is beyond frustrating. My TV co-partner, XFE and I always end up shout incredulously, “But you LOVED the mystery house! It literally had everything you asked for!! And was way under budget!!! What are you waiting for? Get to the estate agent before someone else snatches it up!”

As XFE recently put it, the show should be called “A Chinwag in the Country.”

But it is a really great show that seriously plays into my recent cottagecore/cabin fever feelings. Now if we can just figure out how to get the more recent episodes. I saw on Twitter that one couple with a sizable budget was looking for a country house with a helipad!

RIP Live PD

Posted on by thepoelog

I don’t think I’m being overly dramatic when I say: It has been a couple of seriously heavy weeks in this country.

And, honestly, I don’t even feel like writing. Literally, the only writing I seem to be able to force myself to do is contractually obligated items with a hard deadline. I’m in awe of everyone who seems to be able to just get on with things.

I don’t really feel like doing anything other than stalking secluded mountaintop chalets on Zillow and then decorating said dream houses in Scandinavian minimalist cabin chic via Pinterest every damn second of the day because I just want to hide far, far away from all the news.

This seems like a safe place to be sad.

But I know that is not helpful or productive.

There is just nothing I can say about the current climate that hasn’t already been said, by those who are far more eloquent than I am. So I’ve been taking the advice to be quiet and listen. Listen to those voices who have stories that have been muted or ignored. Take it in. Reflect on it. Be more than an ally, be an accomplice. Be antiracist. Don’t think I know what others have gone through, because there’s no way I can. Just be proactive, supportive and take action every chance I get.

I grew up, like many people, with a deep-rooted respect for the police. Any figures of authority, really, but especially the police. Unlike the sheriff’s departments, who were the guys that came to serve and carry out eviction notices when the adults in my life didn’t fulfill their rental obligations, the police were the good guys. They were the ones who kept the peace, the ones who came and broke up the domestic disputes, the ones who could throw cold water on a hot situation.

As I got a little bit older, my thoughts about the police changed from one of “They’re the good guys” to “Ehhhh, just don’t mess with the police.” I thought, if you aren’t doing anything wrong, there shouldn’t be any issues. Minimize exposure and no one has any problems, right?

But we all now know: that’s not the case. Even when a Black man, woman or transgender person is complying, there is no escaping deep-rooted, systemic, race-based violence and, possibly, death. It’s just now, there’s phone video to prove it.

When Live PD premiered on A&E in October 2016, we got hooked right away. It became mandatory weekend viewing in our household. We cheered on the good guys (the cops) and laughed at the bad guys (the criminals) and applauded whenever they gave an update on a cold case that had been closed, thanks to the watchful eye and helpful tips of Live PD viewers.

We also noticed that it was formulaic and sometimes, the cops gave Black people a seriously hard time for seemingly minor infractions, while letting white people go with just a warning. Drunk white lady drivers were allowed to yell at police officers who pulled them over while Black people who were just parked outside of a convenience store were searched. The show has been accused and sued over racial profiling.

For this and other reasons, we stopped watching Live PD about a year in. For us, it stopped being entertaining and started being, I don’t know, I guess….disturbing?

I look back on it now and I feel such shame for even watching that show for so long. I actually thought it could be a good thing, showing a good side of cops and how they work in their communities. I was wrong.

We weren’t entirely surprised by the news that the show had been cancelled. But what was (slightly) surprising was this:

“The cancellation also comes after an Austin, Texas, newspaper and television station reported fresh details of the case of Javier Ambler, a black man who died while being arrested by law enforcement in 2019. A camera crew with Live PD was there and recorded footage of the incident.”

Another video of another black man dying at the hands of another police officer in broad daylight in front of witnesses (a camera crew, no less) and no one stepping in to do anything about it.

We have seriously got to do better.

Reality TV Time: Too Hot to Handle

Posted on by thepoelog

Whelp, Netflix has done it again. The streaming TV service is legit winning the quarantine game, releasing one splendid, bingeworthy, let’s-forget-what-day-it-is-and-escape-this-hellish-landscape-called-modern-life program after another.

Their latest offering: #THTH, otherwise known as “Too Hot to Handle.”

(I know I said I was going to talk about Tiger King, but honestly, in this fast-paced, binging environment, TK is old news and we have got to get to the hot, new, young disaster programming).

“Too Hot To Handle” is indeed, muy caliente. The dating game/reality series was filmed at a $15,000 a night private resort in Punta Mita, Mexico sometime last year. The show feels very familiar at first: there are 10 very attractive young people (mostly from the UK and the US) with the expected outsized egos (Several of them mention their super attractiveness during their intro reels, as well as the size of their ahem, eggplants. Honestly, you start off hating each and every one of them).

There’s Haley, the sorority girl from Florida, Francesca, an Instagram model from Canada, Chloe, a model from Essex, Rhonda, a restaurant manager from Georgia; Nicole, a social media influencer from Ireland. On the guys side, there’s Sharron, a model/entertainer from New Jersey, David, a nutrition coach from London, Harry, a YouTube “star” from Australia, Matthew, a model from Colorado and Kelz, a football (not soccer, American-style football) player from London.

The whole show has very much got the whole “Love Island” vibe, right down to the soundtrack and even the setting, which is very similar. But unlike Love Island, which clocks in at oh, approximately 40 episodes, each one hour long (not kidding. My reality-TV-life-partner, XFE and I watched all of them over the holidays and it was a project, let me tell you), Too Hot To Handle is just eight sexy, sweaty 40-minute episodes.

THTH is also very reminiscent of that other Netflix gem, “Love Is Blind.” Not because our singles first meet each other by flirting through a frosted wall in a weirdly called, “pod.” But, both shows do push the ridiculous narrative of “forming deeper emotional connections” with members of the opposite sex.

But while Love Is Blind tried to capitalize on the idea of forming a connection based on personality and conversation, not physical attraction, the folks at THTH try to push a deeper emotional connection (PLOT TWIST) by banning sexual activity. No kissing, no putting things in other things, and no self-gratification.

And, because that no sex rule truly seems impossible when you have 10 hot, young horndogs running around in skimpy resort wear for 30 days, the producers had to add an incentive: a $100,000 pot of money. They don’t really outline who will win the money or how, exactly, but they do make it clear that money will be deducted for every indiscretion. Also, neither we, nor the contestants, find out how much will be deducted until an infraction occurs. Which it does, almost immediately.

And the reason we know that is because of an Alexa-like, digital assistant known as Lana who is placed throughout the resort and is basically spying on our hot, young singles. Lana then spills the beans on any infractions — often in graphic detail which for some odd reason was bleeped out — during a nightly gather-around-the-firepit.

The show was actually a very interesting psychological study, because you really did get an idea of how different people are motivated by different things. XFE pointed out that all of the contestants could just agree from the start that they were all going to bonk like little rabbits for the next 30 days on this gorgeous resort and who cares about the money? You basically got a free vacation and nonstop sex.

But they didn’t do that. Some of them (mostly those who weren’t immediately attracted to someone else) really cared a lot about the money and did not want to see the pot dwindle at all. Others, the “rulebreakers” often felt a lot of pressure to not give in because they didn’t want to get grief from the rest of the group. And in a few instances, the rest of the group felt the “rulebreakers” had actually formed a deeper connection by getting physical and therefore agreed that it was ok and probably worth the price.

There are a couple of other hokey, typical dating-show twists thrown in throughout: some self-improvement workshops that are mostly silly, a fantasy suite, a reward system, a couple of attractive “grenades” thrown in to try to shake things up—most of which didn’t necessarily need to happen, but kept the show from getting stale the last couple of episodes.

I think it remains to be seen whether any of the “rulebreaker” couples really did form deeper, more lasting relationships – unlike Love Island and Love Is Blind, there isn’t a reunion episode (but articles can be found all over the Internet). But Too Hot To Handle did help me form a deeper emotional connection with Netflix’s excellent programming choices and made me even more wary of our Google Home devices.  

Reality TV Time: Tidying Up with Marie Kondo

Posted on by thepoelog

Let me ask you a question: Do you know about Marie Kondo?

Of course you do! Everyone does! The whole world has gone Kondo Krazy. I don’t know about you, but my Instagram and Feedly feed is brimming with images and posts and videos of neatly folded clothing, scaled down closets and piles of “komono” to be sold, donated or thrown out.

KonMari, or the art of tidying and organizing, originated with Marie Kondo’s 2014 book, “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.” I never read it, but I heard about it and understood the premise: Uncluttering by going through all of your possessions in the five main categories and deciding if the item “sparks joy.” If it does, it stays. If not, thank it and let it go. Like, forever.

KonMari is back in the consciousness and our Instagram feeds for two main reasons: 1) New Year’s Eve resolutions and 2) in a moment of pure marketing genius, Netflix released the first season of its show, “Tidying Up with Marie Kondo.” And, here’s the genius part: they released it on New Year’s Day, right when everyone was itching to tackle those resolutions to unclutter but still wanted to procrastinate a little bit longer by binge watching a show about uncluttering.

I have a third theory about why we’re all obsessed with purging and organizing right now which is this: the world feels completely out of control, so we want to control something, anything. Our own home environment is a place where we can start and feel some sense of control and order in the midst of all the chaos.

Now, I wouldn’t say I’m a full-on minimalist, but I’m a notorious purger. In fact, I’ve actually thrown away perfectly good money (albeit, on accident). Just saying: I am pretty ruthless. (I also accidentally threw away a box of jewelry once during a move. Mostly sentimental stuff, but still. Gone. I didn’t even turn the car around to go through the dumpster to look for it. I know full well that the Kondo Krazies can have unintended consequences, as this Georgia family also knows.)  KonMari with Kare, y’all.

Anyway, the point is I really don’t get too attached to stuff. I donate and get rid of items on a constant basis. This was especially true after consciously uncoupling from my office job. I donated so. Many. Clothes. Bags and bags of office-appropriate suits, blazers, skirts, pants, sweaters, work tops, belts and shoes went to our local Goodwill. I didn’t even bother to try to sell or consign stuff. I just wanted it all out.

Konmari’ed House

I also secretly dream that in another life I was probably a professional organizer. I love to organize and bring order to some chaos. And literally, everyone is talking about this show. Even my manicurist when I got my nails done recently was gushing about it. So, of course, I watched.

Dear reader, I could only take about 20 minutes of the first episode before I started to feel all itchy and annoyed.

The best way I can describe it is: “Hoarders” meets “Super Nanny” with a dash of some therapy thrown in. Because, like in the vein of other redemptive-themed reality shows like “Hell’s Kitchen” or “Bar Rescue,” Marie Kondo isn’t just there to help people declutter and clean. No, no, no. She’s also there to help save the family relationships. Through the magic of tidying up, of course.

So just like in “Super Nanny” where Joe the Nanny would be brought in to ostensibly help discipline the kids, the real lesson is that the parents are the ones who need help in learning how to be a parent. (On a related note, here’s a very interesting article in how the show is exposing gender biases, ie: society expects women to be the home/memory keepers and women feel they are overwhelmed and failing. Very fascinating.)

Back to the show: The first episode featured the very telegenic Friend family, who, quite honestly, had a very nice home. Obviously, the very telegenic mom probably had too many clothes but not a totally unmanageable or unreasonable amount, in my opinion. And yes, the kitchen was definitely a bit of a disaster (I mean, who doesn’t throw away leftovers before the TV crew shows up?).

Oh girl. You about to get some.

No, what bothered me about the Friends wasn’t the “mess” but just were how needy they appeared. They kept trying to get Marie Kondo to validate that they weren’t that bad and begging her to confirm that sometimes, she’s disorganized, too, and they were just normal people who have to hire someone to come and fold their laundry for them. Honey, if you weren’t that bad, our little Kondo sprite friend wouldn’t be there.

Also, y’all do know that Ms. Kondo is shilling products, right? She’s got her own line of boxes that she’s selling for $89. For boxes. That she displays/product places all over the show. Listen my little organizers: if you are looking for boxes, I got ’em. I get fresh new boxes almost every damn day from Amazon (catkid items) or Sephora (Poe goods). They may not be as cute and pastel as those Kondo boxes, but I’d be willing to sell them to you for a deeply discounted price of $80 per set.

I set “Tidying Up” aside and went back to it a couple of weeks later. I finally got through the rest of the Friend’s episode (and their embarrassing comment about how tidying up has improved their sex life) and went to the next one, which were these empty nesters, the Akiyamas.

That was it for me. They had so, so much stuff. It was insane. Mrs. Akiyama had clothes stuffed in like, four different bedroom closets and Mr. Akiyama had a whole wall of boxes of baseball cards piled precariously on top of each other in the master bedroom. And the Christmas decorations. I just could not. Watching the teeny tiny Marie Kondo skip over the dangerous piles of crap while giggling gave me hives.

I managed to watch it all the way through and guess what? The Empty Nesters did get rid of a TON of stuff, but they still kept a TON of stuff! The closets were still full and boxes and boxes of stuff still lined the walls all over their house.

Oh, and while clearing out, they found a whole collection of these little Japanese dolls (probably like, 100 of them) and they decided those (THE WHOLE COLLECTION) “sparked joy” and they were going to keep them and display them. In their garage. No doubt, these antique dolls were beautiful, but the whole collection? In the garage? It was too much for me.

While our blessed saint of organization Marie Kondo is totally and completely judgement free in the face of incredible mounds of acquired (and even newly discovered) crap, I find that I am not. I can’t help but judge and I was judging. Harshly.

I had to give up on Netflix’s Tidying Up. I’m turning it off and going back to RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars Season 4, which is messy, messy, messy in all the best ways.

Love/hate me some Valentina!

Put Down the Barbell and Pass the Canoli

Posted on by thepoelog

In this era of increased awareness and discussion around mental health, I would like to know: what is going on with Teresa Guidice (of Real Housewives of New Jersey)?

teresa-bodybuilder

Girlfriend got jacked!

teresa-split

This is crazy, right? Nobody (particularly those over 40) puts this much time and effort into completely revamping their entire body and look without there being some underlying issues.

I knew that she had gotten into yoga while she was “away,” but this is waaaaay beyond yoga body. This is even past Crossfit Cult levels of enthusiasm.

teresa yoga.jpg

This is a woman who has written four Italian cookbooks. A woman who likes her pasta and desserts. A woman who stopped by a diner for a breakfast sandwich and coffee before checking into prison in the middle of the night. A woman, who once “wrote” on her blog:

If you’ve gotten any of my 4 cookbooks, you know I love-love-love desserts! I call them “Happy Endings” because everyone deserves one! I’m releasing a new Fabulicious Dessert line and working on my next cookbook–all desserts!–but until they come out, I’ll post some of my favorite dessert recipes here for you.

Here’s a 2012 account of a typical day’s eats, including homemade pasta, cannoli, a mention of “Joe’s juicy meatballs,” and the line: “Honestly, I have no idea how some people deprive themselves.”

teresa desert

Is this the same woman? Getting to this level of bodybuilding had to take a ton of work and discipline and even deprivation, something that can’t be easy while basically being a single mother to four young girls.

Is this a cry for help? I ask because I care about all my Bravolebrities and I know she’s been going through a particularly hard time, with Joe in prison and everything.

Teresa table flipping.jpg
GIVE ME CARBS!!!

However, you cannot blot out your problems with copious amounts of fake tanner and Muscle Milk, Teresa.

Teresa eating

In all seriousness, I tip my hat to her, even if I do think she’s gone a bit too far. She’s always looked amazing, particularly for someone who has had four children (five, if you count Joe). I was just more impressed when she looked great AND ate carbs.

I’m not sure if the Bravo cameras were along with Teresa on this latest life journey, documenting it all for an eventual season 9.

But her transformation should make for an interesting reunion when Juicy Joe gets out of prison next March. He better watch his mouth because I’m pretty sure she could kick his butt pretty easily these days.

teresa-and-joe-giudice

Reality TV Time: Southern Charm New Orleans

Posted on by thepoelog

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: having a cold sucks. Especially in the summer.

I’ve been sick for about a week. And it really sucks. It’s also been raining in D.C. for basically a month. Sure, there were a couple of days of modest sunshine, but mostly, it’s been rain: warm, humid, phlegmy rain.

cat in rain

So even if I were feeling 100 percent, I’d be housebound.

You’d think that with all that time at home, I’d have been more productive. But, you’d be wrong. I just finished up my big client project for the year and was gearing up for prospecting mode when this cold laid me out. I’ve got another big client project with no hard deadline that I’m working on and a few smaller projects, but I’ve got some breathing room. If only my gunk-filled lungs will cooperate.

However, when one is sick and housebound and hopped up on Nyquil/Dayquil, there really is just one activity worthy of a doxylamine succinate-soaked brain — watching a lot of bad TV on Bravo, including Southern Charm (both the original and the New Orleans edition).

I, of course, watched Southern Charm Savannah and I got to say: I was disappointed. I just couldn’t get into it. It was just missing something. Maybe a Ravenal. Maybe a Patricia. I’m just not sure, but I didn’t find a single character that I really liked and instead found several that I despised.

ashley borders via Bravo
I’m sorry, Ashley. I really thought I would like you, but I just didn’t. (Photo: Bravo)

Southern Charm New Orleans snagged me from the first. Sure, it does seem that every marriage on the show is on the verge of collapse, which is never really comfortable or even fun to watch, but I dig this group of friends. They seem to genuinely be friends and have each other’s backs. I love how they can throw down and call each other out and then end up dancing to zydeco, all the in the same 10 minutes.

Don’t get it twisted: Tamica has a big ol’mouth and stirs the gumbo pot like it’s one of her many exhausting jobs, but, everyone seems to know that’s just how she is and not to take it too seriously. I especially love the tension and marriage-commenting that goes on between her and Reagan, neither of whom should be handing out any commitment advice right now. They are worthy adversaries who play off each other’s relationship blindness pretty well.

jeff and reagan

(Oh damn. Just found this.)

But it’s the guys that especially made this spin off so great – all of them, even Tamica’s cousin, brother, and assorted hanger-ons. They’re all strong, successful, and just chill. They’re clearly used to high drama women and know how to brush off the nonsense. Plus, we saw a little bit of vulnerability in all of them: Barry trying to instill confidence in his daughter, Jeff wrestling with some serious family demons, Justin being a mama’s boy who’s afraid of ghosts, and Jon Moody, who just can’t seem to find a shirt (seasonally inappropriate turtleneck, notwithstanding) or a pair of pants that actually fit him (son, them pants this season were snug!). Poor thing had to go without a shirt most of the time.

jon moody
There is almost never a time that a turtleneck is needed in New Orleans. This is also one of those times. (Photo: Bravo)

I haven’t seen the finale yet (it’s on the DVR) but I’m fairly sure it will involve the N.O. gang and all their friends and relatives getting together to eat great food, drink too much, make drama and resolve it. It’s pretty much a Bravo finale requirement. Jon will, undoubtedly, be shirtless (for his art, of course). Reagan will wear a giant hoop skirt and some lion-emblazed, doorknocker jewelry that I think only she can pull off. Tamica will meddle in some people’s business and go a teeny bit too far. Justin will dodge efforts to get him married off after only dating his current love for ONE YEAR (y’all just leave him alone). Barry will be silent and supportive.

In any case, I hope (and suspect) that Southern Charm New Orleans will get a second season and I can’t wait for it.

 

 

Reality TV Time: Below Deck Mediterranean

Posted on by thepoelog

My travel-buddy-for-life XFE and I just got back from a soccer roadtrip through the South, which was basically 3,000 miles of varying degrees of traffic and highways broken up by stops for soccer (go Tottenham), kitschy tourist locales (I’d never been to South of the Border, but I have now), barhopping at country honkytonks (Nashville might be my new favorite place ever), ice cream from gas stations (literally, every day) and tons of Southern food (hello pimento cheese)—all in all, pretty dang awesome.

But before we start down that 3,000 mile road, can we please just talk for a minute about Below Deck: Mediterranean? Because the reunion is tonight and I. Have. Thoughts.

below-deck-mediterranean-season-2-travel-photos-bobby-07

First of all, killing me with those beautiful Croatian backdrops there, Bravo.

below-deck-med-croatia

We went to Croatia in 2013, including Split and Dubrovnik, which are both prominently featured on the show. It was amazing to see the same medieval streets again on the TV screen and it really, really made me want to go back.

Nighttime in Split, Croatia
One of our 2013 photos

In fact, there was one scene where they went to pick up some guests from their hotel right outside of Split instead of at the dock. And wouldn’t you know it, they were actually picking up the guests from the same hotel we had stayed at, Le Meridien Lav (scene of the infamous French fry décor).

So yes. Killing me. Making me want to book another trip immediately.

But, more importantly, I think this was probably my favorite season of Below Deck. And that’s because I felt like this season really shined a light on the social hypocrisy that exists when it comes to gender stereotypes.

malia-below-deck-wes-adam.jpg
Love triangle, cruising style.

You already know what I’m talking about. There is, of course, the Malia-Adam-Wes love triangle. I cannot believe how much grief that poor girl got. And for what? For casually dating/getting to know two guys and figuring out which one she might like? Guys do this all the time and no one bats an eye about it. In fact, I believe Mr. Andy Cohen has a whole other show on one of the main networks where contestants date (and sometimes even kiss) three different people in the course of a week!

I was also very shocked that it wasn’t just the aggrieved, jilted Adam who was giving Malia grief. It was the other male deckhands and even the female stews. Hey ladies, how about you stop clutching your pearls over whether Malia is kissing two grown men and giving Malia a high-five for evening up the score a bit. #sistersdoingitforthemselves

Below Deck M

And Adam, maybe you should go check out this museum in Zagreb dedicated to broken relationships. You could have a good cry, donate that hat you lent to Malia, and then maybe some healing can begin.

Below Deck Mediterranean in Croatia
Same street in Split we were on.

I’m actually more bothered by the fact that they’re all co-workers. I’m a firm believer that you should not poop where you eat and dating co-workers falls into that category, which is why I’ve never dated a co-worker. (I’ve also never dated a boss and Wes was a blind idiot for making Malia his second-in-command over Bobby, who clearly has more experience).

Then there’s the whole Hannah-passenger-Jason and Bobby-passenger-Paola business. Again, do I think any of them should be smooching on passengers/clients? No, absolutely not. But the hysteria that surrounded Hannah’s transgression compared to the virtual shrugging of the shoulders when Bobby lurked (multiple times!) on his Tinder match (dude, what are you doing checking Tinder when you don’t even have the night off?) was so annoying and hypocritical.

Hannah and Jason on Below Deck
I will give you credit, Hannah: If you’re going to break the rules, a good-looking millionaire is probably a good route to take.

Even Max admitted to how hypocritical his reaction towards the exact same situation involving crew getting involved with clients was when Bobby went creeping downstairs to get a smooch from a girl who may or may not have been a paid companion of the primary.

jerry and some of his ladies
Jerry the charter primary and some of his..ahem…guests.

Anyway, it was a great season and hopefully, there will be more discussion of this sexist hypocrisy business at tonight’s reunion. After all, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, right? Or, as the Croatians say: Velike ribe male proždiru (big fish devour the small. I’m not sure that actually applies here, but I wanted to include a Croatian proverb).

bobby below deck
Bobby learning how to use an iPad (with an assist from the more tech-savvy Bugsy).

 

Reality TV Time: Why Live PD is the Wreck I Can’t Help But Watch

Posted on by thepoelog

Don’t mind me. I’m not even here. I mean, I’m here, but I’m not supposed to be. I’ve got a couple of major projects gobbling up my time, a bunch of looming deadlines, and I’m waiting to jump on the phone with a potential new client, but I had to just stop by and ask a very, very important question……

Is anyone else obsessed with Live PD?

Live PD

Of course you are. According to Deadline Hollywood: “Since its premiere in October, Live PD has averaged 1.1 million total viewers a week in Live+7 and has outperformed A&E’s regular primetime average by 29% among total viewers.”

So, it’s doing pretty well.

This latest reality TV offering from the fine folks at the esteemed Arts & Entertainment network (that’s A&E, for those not in the know) is on for three hours (!) Friday and Saturday nights and, gentle reader, it is amazing. One of us (the one not named Poe) even DVRs it and watches it sporadically over the course of the weekend, in case a three hour commitment is just not in the cards.

(Also, yes, I know exactly what this implies about Friday and Saturday nights here at the Poe household and yes, those implications do indeed hold up. We’re pretty lame.)

The thing is: there’s nothing really new here. It’s basically like “Cops.” It plays on the idea that 1) criminals are crazy; 2) cops are not stupid; 3) we—the audience—like to think we’re smarter than both.

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Well, I know I’m smarter than this probable pedophile/drug dealer who was wearing this shirt on a recent episode.

A&E describes the show as “a live look at police across the country as they work the night shift in real-time.”

There are, at least, a couple of debatable facts in that statement. For one thing, it’s mostly “live.” The producers also rely heavily on pre-taped call segments, but I’m not mad about it.

Listen, sometimes live police work isn’t very interesting. There’s a lot of driving around while the units wait for a call. Sometimes that call isn’t very interesting. And, of course, law enforcement institutions are incredibly bureaucratic, so it’s not unusual to have to wait around to get another officer to come and conduct a field sobriety test (although, at this point, after several weeks of viewing, I’m pretty sure I could administer a field sobriety test at this point.) Or bring a K-9 unit to sniff the car. Or any number of things that slow down the action.

The terms “real-time” and “night shift” are also a bit debatable. There have been numerous times where our good friend and host Dan Abrams insists a chase or call is taking place at this exact moment of 9 p.m. but it appears to be in full daylight. Even for calls in Calvert County, Maryland, which is maybe 50 miles from where I live.

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But putting all that aside for a second, the thing that’s truly addicting about Live PD is that you never know what people are going to do.

After a few weeks of watching, the “show” had started to get a bit formulaic to me:

  1. Car has a busted license plate light. Police officer pulls car over.
  2. When the driver rolls the window down, police officer exclaims he smells a strong detection of weed. Driver denies it, perhaps even gets offended.
  3. Police officer asks driver to get out of car. They discuss the driver’s lack of valid license/ID/ and/or other outstanding warrants.
  4. Police officer then has enough probable cause to search the driver (but not before asking if the driver has anything in his/her pockets that’s going to hurt the officer, a question which sometimes elicits some pretty comical responses), search the car, gets a K-9 to scratch up the exterior—all while the officer is pleading to the driver to just tell the truth and come clean, and the driver is insisting that he had done nothing wrong and didn’t even deserve to be pulled over in the first place.
  5.  Inevitably, no matter how sincere and impassioned the driver’s reasoning and entreaties sound to the audience at home (I have more than one time proclaimed that a driver was being harassed and really seems like he’s worked his way back to the straight path and shucks, can’t we just forget the stupid license plate light?) lo and behold, marijuana or other more hardcore drug paraphernalia is discovered and the perp is hauled off in handcuffs.

All over some stupid minor infraction like a busted license plate light.

My faith in humanity gets put through the wringer every damn time. I consider myself pretty street smart. I grew up surrounded by some questionable, if not downright shady, adult figures. I’ve been present during some instances of recreational drug use.

But I keep coming back to Live PD because they keep surprising me. For one thing, I am amazed at 1) how many people are out there doing drugs (apparently, everyone operating a motor vehicle – and sometimes bicycle. Yes, we’ve seen people pulled over on their bicycles on Live PD) 2) how much some people just flat out lie, even when evidence to the contrary is sitting right there on their car hood, and 3) how good some of them are at lying. And, also, how laughably bad some of them are at it.

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The now-famous Obama Convenience Store, where a lot of drug activity apparently takes place.

There are a few other questionable aspects to Live PD other than time jumping and sloppy continuity issues—for example, it’s interesting to see the efforts at privacy used in cases where the driver is wealthier and whiter (especially huffy white women who’ve had “just one glass of rose” or “an Irish coffee after dinner.” Those broads get away with some serious level smack talking). In those cases, faces and licenses plates will be blurred (although the memory of bad mom outfits will always be burned in my mind), and the camera guys will film from behind the driver.

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Whereas, in the case of non-white drivers, license plates will be shown, faces will be shown, even in instances where they say they don’t want to be filmed (my favorite cop rejoinder when a driver asks about the cameras: “Those guys are here for me, not you.” I assure you, dear law enforcement person, viewers are definitely not here just for you.

Shows like this serve many, many important functions: deterring criminal activity, making cops seem more humane and approachable while highlighting the danger of their jobs, and, the most important, entertaining us. Live PD does all that.

And, if you are watching Live PD, may I suggest printing out some of these bingo cards?

Revisiting Reality Shows: My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding

Posted on by thepoelog

Twice this past month, I’ve gotten a notification from the fine folks at WordPress that my “stats were booming,” ie: a significant spike in visitors. By like, 400 percent.

Since I have been pretty sporadic about posting lately, I found that a bit odd and did some digging.

And what I found out is that it’s the gypsies that are doing it.

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The post that attracted hundreds of new visitors to the site for several days in July and August was this one from 2012: Reality TV Time: I Cannot Tear My Eye-Nipples Away from My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding.

Now, I’d like to think it’s that snazzy title with the incredibly SEO-friendly phrase “Eye-Nipples” that has led to all this PoeLog discovery. However, I think it’s probably much more likely tied to the fact that a season FIVE (??? Is that right? How can that be??) of My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding recently started up on July 17 on TLC, formerly “The Learning Channel” but which I rather affectionately call “Total Loose Cannons.”

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I have to admit, I have not kept up with my white-trash cousins, the American Romanichal. Somehow, over the years, I’ve lost touch on all the comings and goings of wee little gypsy Priscilla (she’s now a professional wrestler!) and her ne’er-do-well pappy Pat Baby (not surprisingly, he did some time at what Teresa Guidice would call “camp”). I have missed out on probably hundreds of gaudy yet spectacular Sondra Celli dresses made for under-aged brides with more makeup (and disposable cash) than common sense.

But, with the Olympic-sized absence of Bravo-sponsored reality TV in my life last week, I decided to pour myself a goblet of wine, don my best butt-bedazzled velour house pants, and give my blog readers what they want: like an 80-pound gypsy bride in an 80-pound dress, I carefully maneuvered my way back into My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding, ie: I watched the first two episodes OnDemand.

And wow, how I have missed this show. All of the essential trainwreck elements are still there: tangled family triangles (as well as quadrangles and any other geometric configuration you can think of), young girls with big dress dreams and impossible requests, young men who eskew normal wedding attire, fights – both the internal struggles against expected societal norms and actual drunken brawls. And divorce. Lots and lots of divorces, especially for a cultural group who insist that divorce is incredibly shameful and not an option.

Episode one (“Rotting Dresses and Candy Messes”) of this season involved two supposedly “nontraditional gypsy girls.” Eighteen-year-old Maquayla, has several jobs, including, alarmingly, as a makeup artist. Her would-be groom, however, has zero jobs. Maquayla, full of love in her heart, still intends to marry him and she wants a Sondra Celli dress made of real flowers.

Now, Sondra’s magical dress workshop is located near Boston. Maquayla lives in West Virginia. No way a dress made of perishable items is going to survive the 500-mile journey two days before the wedding. And, surprise, it does not. When the supposedly “refrigerated” truck pulls up in front of what looks to be the Days Inn, I can tell right away that that truck is not refrigerated and second, that that dress was not transported with love and care. The door opens to reveal a sad, wilted flower salad of a dress.

Maquayla calls Sondra Celli crying and Sondra Celli jumps into action, flying down to West Virginia with only one assistant and rebuilds the entire dress with only moments to spare. The wedding takes place in a literal field with cows and pigs in attendance. The groom and his groomsmen are wearing vests, ties, trucker hats and no shirts. Oh, and Maquayla tells us and her groom that she’s pregnant. So much for non-traditional.

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Our other non-traditional gypsy girl is Yazzie and she’s celebrating her Sweet 16. The reason she’s non-traditional is that she’s secretly dating a gorger (a boy who is not a gypsy). His name is Anthony and it’s all really rather boring except for the fact that when Yazzie decides to honor her mother and her culture by breaking up with Gorger Anthony, she does it at a park. Then she skates off dramatically on a giant skateboard. It was pretty fantastic.

Favorite lines from episode 1:

  • “Everything was dead….my dream wedding dress was dead. And my dream gypsy flower wedding died with it.”–Maquayla
  • “My eyes wanted to cry and my stomach fell into my butt, but he was the picture of perfection.”—Maquayla
  • “I’ve never lost a dress and I’m not going to lose this one!”—Sondra Celli

Episode 2 (“Double Wedding From Hell”) cleared up for me why I had had so many visitors to that particular blog post—it was a catch-up with our old friends, Priscilla and Pat Baby.

We discover that Priscilla Kelly is now 18-years-old and is now a professional wrestler in Atlanta. She must be doing alright because she’s throwing herself a big, gypsy birthday party. But she’s torn on whether to invite her father, Pat Baby. Priscilla’s parents are recently divorced and cannot stand each other. Plus, Pat Baby has a way of acting out and she’s worried he’ll turn it into a “Pat Baby party,” which he totally does. He’s also pretty fond of embarrassing her in public, including at her wrestling matches where he becomes a creepy superfan.

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She does not invite Pat Baby and makes it clear that he is not invited. However, he somehow takes this as an invitation to just show up anyway. And he gets drunk, hangs all over his daughter, yells at his ex-wife, tries to take over the DJ tables and gets kicked out.

Our other story is, believe it or not, even more unbelievably disastrous. Cousins Stefanie, 19, and Amber-Lynn, 22, are in love with gypsy boys, Mike and Dustin and plan to have a double wedding. The only problem is, Stefanie’s sister, Chassity. She also happens to be Dustin’s ex and has a child with him. When we first meet her, she’s practicing her bb-gun skills, so we know she is no joke.

Chassity objects to the upcoming Amber-Lynn/Dustin wedding and along with her mother (Amber-Lynn’s aunt), vows to ruin the big day. She tries to break up the in-love couple, making it clear that she’s available and forgiving. When that doesn’t work, Chassity and her mother don black garb and attend the wedding, glaring at the couple throughout the brief ceremony and through the ghetto reception.

The reception is where things really start to unravel. Amber-Lynn’s ex-husband shows up to declare his love for her. Although Amber-Lynn kicks him out, her new groom believes there is more there. He calls her a whore, pushes a pregnant girl, gets in an all-out fight with all the other attendees, and the cops show up to break the reception up. The episode ends with the news that Amber-Lynn has gone back to her ex-husband.

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Favorite lines from episode 2:

  • “Nobody puts Pat Baby in a corner.”—Pat Baby
  • “My theme is 1920s Great Gatsby meets rave with a touch of gypsy bling.”—Priscilla
  • “She has no butt, no boobs. You’re going to get bored.”—Chassity
  • “Definitely curse this fucking wedding.”—Chassity

 

 

 

 

 

5 British TV Shows to Replace Downton Abbey

Posted on by thepoelog

A sad(ish) thing happened to Anglophiles and history nerds a couple of weeks ago: Downton Abbey ended after six seasons.

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I watched a couple of seasons of Downton Abbey, but I was not a consistent watcher, although I do thoroughly appreciate the way they would just hurtle forward in time to avoid expensive production moments. One second, a character will announce that they’ve just gotten engaged and the next second, you see a carriage/car pulling away from a church exterior and two other characters commenting on how it was a nice wedding. You don’t actually get to see the too-expensive-to-film wedding or the many months leading up to it. It’s as if nothing at all important happened during that period. Or, at least, nothing so important it can’t be explained with some past-tense, recap-like dialogue. “Wasn’t it something when Lord Twiddle-y met his soon-to-be, yet completely unknown daughter for the first time just weeks after the engagement? By jove, that was awkward. Let’s go have some cake.”

Or, maybe it wasn’t a cost thing at all (I mean, look at those costumes!) but rather, certain actors just not being available at certain times, or something else entirely. In any case, it’s over and lots of people are sad.

But there’s really no reason to be sad. In fact, as I discovered on my recent trip to London, there is tons of great British programming that–for reasons completely mysterious to me–have not yet made their way over to this side of the pond.

Here are five British television shows that could easily replace Downton Abbey.

Geordie Shore: Let’s start with the most obvious. Now in its 12th season, this fine yarn has been on MTV-UK twice as long as Downton Abbey was on television. This show, which is basically a British knockoff of our beloved Jersey Shore, is described on IMBd as a “reality TV show following eight young men and women as they spend a summer experiencing the highs and lows of Newcastle-upon-Tyne’s party scene.” So everybody is sleeping with each other. Like, a lot.

Geordie, in case you didn’t know, refers to someone from Newcastle. And let me tell you, their accents are so thick, you absolutely need subtitles. Especially when they are drunk or yelling, which is all the time.

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How it’s like Downton Abbey: Well, like I said, I didn’t watch every season of Downton Abbey, but it sure seems like those Crawley girls got around. When we meet Mary, she’s just had a one-night stand with a Turkish diplomat, who died in her bed. Don’t even get me started on Edith’s illegitimate daughter from her married (and yes, soon dead) boss.

Four in a Bed: On the complete opposite side of the spectrum is this Channel 4 show, which is, unfortunately (or, maybe fortunately) not as sexy as it sounds. B&B owners throw open their doors and take turns to staying at—and critiquing—each other’s establishments. There’s some seriously bitchy shade thrown around in this one.

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How it’s like Downton Abbey: Lots and lots of chintz and antiques. Plus, the snark is reminded me of Lady Violet.

Come Dine With Me: Also on Channel 4. A group of five strangers, each an amateur chef, compete to host the best dinner party, each party solely for the competitors. The winner takes home £1,000. Plus there’s this wonderful narrator throwing out bad jokes and snarky comments about the competitors’ cooking and hosting abilities throughout the show.

Come Dine With Me

How it’s like Downton Abbey: There were plenty of dinner party dramas at old D.A., but the one in episode 5 of the last season might just take the award for most awkward. As far as I know, no one on Come Dine With Me has had an ulcer burst and spewed blood all over the dinner table. Although, this sore loser might have burst a blood vessel (and a shirt button or two) during his temper tantrum.

Take Me Out: This misogynist dating game show on ITV was one of our absolute favorites. 30 women compete for the attention of a bachelor. The women each have a switch they can flip to opt out of being picked by the would-be suitor during the first couple of rounds, but in the end, the guy picks the woman he’d like to go out with from the remaining women. They then go off to some hilarious fake place called “Fernando’s,” for a beach vacation. Sometimes, the episode includes an update on the overnight date from a previous match up.

Take Me Out

How it’s like Downton Abbey: D.A. was known for having some pretty quippy one-liners over the years (“Of course it would happen to a foreigner. No Englishman would dream of dying in someone else’s house.”) but ol’Lady Violet hasn’t got anything on the verbal cleverness of Take Me Out host Paddy McGuinness, who has coined such terms as “No likey, no lighty,” “If he’s not Mr. Right, turn off your light,” and “Come and get some Paddy love!”

The Jeremy Kyle Show: This ITV show just beat out Take Me Out as our favorite show. It’s a lot like the old Jerry Springer show. Wikipedia has the best description, which includes the term “human bear baiting.”

It’s a train wreck involving lots of lie detector tests to determine if people have cheated, stolen, impregnated, or otherwise wronged each other. It appears that one family member will call the show saying they want their loved one to take a lie detector test to prove they aren’t using drugs anymore. Then the aggrieved loved one will counterattack by demanding that the original loved one take a lie detector test to prove they aren’t sleeping with their brother. It goes pretty much downhill from there. Results are revealed on the show and much shouting and talking over each other ensues in accents that make the whole proceedings pretty much unintelligible.

There’s a therapist, of sorts, on hand to help everyone deal with the lie detector results, but the real ringmaster is Kyle, who looks a lot like Craig Kilborn (most recently of the Kraft Mac and Cheese commercials). He’s very blunt, judgmental and pretty funny. He’s also prone to run backstage to confront waiting family members with the jiggling camera following him through the halls. And, at least once a show, Kyle will casually lounge on the carpeted stairs that lead to the raised platform stage, waving his handful of result cards while having a sensitive moment with some of his onstage guests and looking over his shoulder at the audience to see if they can believe what they’re hearing. Kyle also acts very wounded if he finds out he’s been lied to which is literally, all of the time.

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How it’s like Downton Abbey: Well, Jeremy Kyle is no Lord Grantham, that’s for sure. But the Jeremy Kyle show has all the drama and manufactured intrigue of Downton Abbey, just with fewer teeth and trashier clothes.

DA Done