Blow Me Out

I’ve fallen for another reality show…. But in teh end, I fell.

I make ze little confession.

I’ve fallen for another reality show.

Yes, it’s true. I cannot help it. I fought. I resisted. But in the end, I fell. I’m hooked on Blow Out.

I can’t figure out why. I should hate this show. It’s full of the vapid rich-n-famous crap I can’t take at all. It’s set it beverly hills and west hollywood. I hated it on sight when I saw the promos last year.

Yet, the other night, I found myself in the middle of an episode (summary of which ep), first interested, then starting to care.

That’s the slippery slope of reality teevee; when you start to care. Get out before that and you might be ok, but once you start to care about the ‘characters’, you’re sucked into the mire.

I dunno. Maybe it’s that I’ve known so many hairdressers. Now, I shave my head, so I have not needed a haircut or a hair product in most of a decade. But there was a time when I was hairstyle kid; big hair and fashion-cuts and colors. Spiky or flat-topped or layered. I got my hair cut regularly and knew all about the lives and loves and drama in several local salons. To this day, the guy who used to cut my hair, Frankie (Who really should have a web page), is still a friend.

Maybe that’s why I like this show. Or maybe it’s just fuckin’ Jonathan. The man’s a natural for teevee; tall, masculine, handsome as hell; brilliant cutter and stylist, great voice, great cowboy style. He’s dynamic and charismatic. You can see, instantly, why he’s a huge success in the biz, and why someone said “put that man on TV!” The whole thing has the classic feel; the boss, the captain, the chief, who will do whatever it takes to win, but also cares about his crew, his gang, his troop. It could be a gang drama, a western; it’s an archetype that, in fiction, in drama, spans genres. This show has that feel, the fearless leader, strong and tough, but tender and insecure inside. Corny and over-the-top? Yes, but I can’t turn it off.

It makes surprisingly compelling teevee. I knew I was hooked when I went looking for it in my TiVo to see if I had any episodes. And I knew I was in trouble when I started to wonder if I could get the first season on DVD. Stop me, please.

Sigh. This is the last one. Promise. No more reality teevee.

[made with ecto]

4 thoughts on “Blow Me Out”

  1. Step 1 is to realize that you have become powerless over shitty reality TV, and that your life has become unmanageable.

    The last year or so I’ve been going to an ancient old-school barbershop. Weird bottles of LBJ-era hair tonic on the walls, sports posters, GQ and Maxim and (on the back rack) Playboy for reading. Two old codgers who will soon be too old to be trusted with a razor. But they stiill do the straight-razor finish around the ears and neck, and I’m a sucker for that.

    But the salon thing…dang, sometimes I really miss those shampoos and head massages from my Kristi.

  2. I forgot to mention the best hairdresser I ever had. She was dark-haired, olive-skinned, exotic, had a sexy accent, perfect breasts, and always wore low cut tops and a leather mini-skirt that showed off the huge tattoo of a snake that curled around her left thigh from hip to knee. Good God, but she was sexy.

    As a hairdresser, she sucked; always gave me a really bad haircut. I didn’t care. I kept coming back until she just wasn’t there one day.

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