Fame

“Fame! I want to live forever!” The song lyrics have become a way of life for some, and so the question is: Which came first? The insatiable thirst for fame or the reality show? I suppose that’s a matter for a psychiatrist, but it seems that people are more and more willing to do anything to become famous—some infamous in my view.

In recent weeks, we have seen a father try to get a reality show by having his children and wife lie about their youngest son’s so-called perilous balloon flight. This engrossed the news channels and the American public for most of a day and cost the state and federal governments’ untold amounts of money. Why would a father do this? He was seeking a reality show.

This past week, a couple crashed the black tie state dinner hosted for India’s Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and his wife. This couple—whom I won’t dignify by repeating their names--managed to have their photo taken with the president, vice president, and Rohm Emanuel while there, then bragged about their social faux pas by posting the pictures on Facebook. The Secret Service has a black eye, and the Senate and White House are now going to take valuable time to investigate—all because some social climbers who lie pathologically about who they are and what they have accomplished want a reality show. I swear, if Bravo or any other channel signs them on, I will never watch another show on that channel. We have to stop encouraging these people.

Do people seeking to be famous for being outrageous not stop to think about the consequences of their behavior? Of course they don’t. Their narcissism won’t let them. The rest of society pays a price for their folly. The next time a parent calls about some out-of-the-ordinary child mishap, will the emergency services hesitate for just a moment? Will some service be underfunded because of the money spent on a hoax? Will the Secret Service lose credibility at a time when our president has threats against his life too frequently? This is not funny, people.

The airwaves are saturated with reality shows because they are cheaper to produce, and—let’s face it—people watch them, including me in some cases. And this tirade of mine is not intended to lump all reality television into the same clump. Some of these shows celebrate a competition of talent: Top Chef, Project Runway, The Next Iron Chef, American Idol, and others. Some are makeovers that are inspiring like Extreme Home Makeover and The Biggest Loser; others are roads to life changes: Clean House, What Not to Wear, Super Nanny, etc. These do no harm and feature and sometimes reward good or improved behaviors.

What then can be the redeeming quality of Shot of Love with Tila Tequillia? Bad Girls? The Girls Next Door? And--I now apologize to even some members of my own family—how is it helpful to give a platform to assorted Real Housewives or Dallas Divas and Daughters? (Women who have chosen to be homemakers should not be trivialized by this spoiled lot. The real stay-at-home moms deserve more respect.) Because of this kind of reality television, people can become famous for contributing nothing to society except for their own shallow self-absorption. People can become famous for being infamously outrageous. These people make a living via a television contract for living their lives in front of a camera while being the most flamboyant self they can be.

I suppose this is the quintessential entrepreneurial endeavor for those who don’t like to work much or desire to act when they have no innate talent for it. I know this makes me sound insufferable for being so outraged by this kind of societal promotion of the success of some who have done little to earn it. I can’t help it. I know that these shows will go on. They have a devoted audience. All I can do is vent, and so I am.