Last year, sometime early in the hockey season, some sales droid gave my boss four club-level tickets to a sharks game. The closer you get to the ice, the better hockey is, so of course I said yes.
While we were there, the arena jumbotrons showing promos for the upcoming dancing with the stars *live* tour. The three guys I was sitting with, of course, sneered at the idea. Who would want to go to that?, by boss asked, with genuine incredulity. And I have to say, i kind of agreed.
It’s not that I couldn’t imagine being interested in competitive dance; it’s sexy, athletic, in a sense it’s artistic. But, you know, there’s just something that sounded incredibly cheesy about it.
A few months ago, while looking for Torchwood on BBC America, I caught a few minutes of a re-run first season DWTS. I was pulled in, predictably, by drop-dead-sexy women like Edyta Śliwińska and Cheryl Burke. And I was drawn in when I realized Jerry Rice, the best wide receiver ever to play football, was one of the celebrities. But dammit if I didn’t keep watching because it was good.
I’m a big figure skating fan; and this had just enough of that same appeal (technical skills, artistry, athletics, and sex appeal) that I was drawn in. I managed to get past the cheese, and with each week got a little more involved.
I admit it; I cared who won. I cared because because of my monstrous crush on ms Burke, and I cared because her partner really deserved to win.
I kind of figured, though, that I was done with it after that one re-run season. The whole thing is just too damned cheesy, too silly, and I keep swearing not to ever get hooked up in another reality show.
Only, the current season was just starting.
I told myself it was just to see Cheryl Burke. I told myself it was just to root for my man Penn Jillette. Only poor Penn and his battlestar-feet went home the first night. But you know, Kristi Yamaguchi was one of the stars in question, so I kind of wondered how a figure skater would do.
Yeah, I was hooked. And really, it wasn’t just because I’d kill a man just to lick the sweat off of Cheryl Burke’s back. I was hooked because I actually like the show.
There I said it. I confess. I like it. And I’m bummed it’s almost over.
If I ever watch american fucking idol, someone shoot me, ok?