Dear Readers,
It's been a while!
Now, in order to write what I want to write, I'm going to
have to admit something I don't want
to admit. Namely, that Maddie and I watch "The Bachelorette"—go ahead
and judge.
Furthermore, we have watched numerous (maybe all) seasons of
said show. Why would we waste our time with what can be considered trash TV?
I've asked myself that question a lot—because
I don't like trash. I had a teacher tell me (regarding the dismal effort
I'd put into a science project): garbage in—garbage out, and that has
stuck with me for thirty-plus years.
But here Maddie and I sit watching people go through the
machinations of "falling in love." Ha—that's a joke!
Contestants may fall into passion or into bed or into a Jacuzzi or into
infatuation, but love? I think not—given how quickly almost all of the
relationships disintegrate after the cameras stop rolling. I read a while back
that The Bachelor franchise has had fewer successful love matches than
"The Biggest Loser"—um, so who's the biggest loser now?
But back to why we watch. I was having trouble articulating
what lay in the recesses of my heart, so I did the prudent thing—I asked my
writer friend, Jan, why she watches
it. Here are her eloquently stated reasons:
Crazily enough, because I always hope there will be a happily ever after, a true love story that I got to watch
unfold.
But there's always a train wreck, and that's kind of fun to watch,
too.
That opportunity to yell at the television,
because we (the viewers) are privy to interactions that the bachelorette and/or
the bachelors haven't seen. So we shout "No! Not him! He's a liar!"
and smack our foreheads in dismay. Or glee.
It's cool to watch the pretty people in pretty clothes, going
on fantasy dates in pretty places.
Since it's a competition, it's fun to pick a favorite suitor and
root for him. The farther he goes, the more invested we get in him winning.
Pure voyeurism. And (mostly) guilt-free judging of other people.
We're pretty much right
there with Jan—but I'll add one more:
Reason #7
that Maddie and I have been watching season after season is because we've been
in search of an answer to one question that plagues us—is there one, just one person out there who would
say no to the Fantasy Suite?
For those of you uninitiated
in the ways of the Fantasy Suite, it goes something like this: when the
bachelorette (or bachelor) is down to three suitors, they are all whisked away
to someplace tropical and sweaty. At the end of each individual date (over
three nights), each suitor is given the opportunity to forego his/her
individual room, and instead stay with the Bachelor/Bachelorette in the most
romantic rooms ever conceived by television producers. . . where rose petals
and champagne abound. . . and where the cameras don't go. . . and where a lot
of dot, dot, dot happens.
And season after season
Maddie and I have been grossed out by the fact that every contestant (that
we've seen) has accepted the Fantasy Suite. Now, neither Maddie nor I are
brilliant mathematicians, and this has nothing to do with our faith, either—but
when we see three guys over three nights with one girl, or three girls over
three nights with one guy, for us it equals EWWWWWWWW!
Season after season,
we've waited for someone to say no.
And last night it
finally happened.
Bachelorette Emily (who
is a mother to a six-year-old little girl) gave the invitation to Suitor
#1-Sean. He accepted—but he and Emily used language to suggest that intimacy
wasn't necessarily part of the plan. And then sometime around midnight she
asked to leave—she wanted to set a good example for her daughter. He was a
gracious gentleman and left her with a kiss.
But, oh, it gets even
better!
The following evening,
Emily gives the invitation to Suitor #2-Jef (who sadly lacks a second
"f"). And miracle of miracles, the moment Maddie and I have waited
for arrives! No, he says, and then
words to this effect—I know you want to set a good example for your daughter,
and I know my family will be watching this, and your family will be, too.
Not that I don't want to spend the night with you—I want to spend every night with you—but when it's
right. Sometimes it's best to bridle your
passions.
I burst into tears right
there for the beauty of what I just heard. What we'd been waiting for year
after year. For someone to say no—it's
not right.
And as far as we're
concerned, this world could do with more
bridling of passions.
But the beauty of the
Fantasy Suite Episode was not over! On the third night, Emily had a fantastic
date with Suitor #3—Arie—who she is very
physically attracted to. They have chemistry oozing from every perfect pore. So
what does Emily do at the end of the evening? Hold on to your swimsuits—she doesn't offer him the card at all!
We've never seen that before! She said she didn't trust herself to keep things
where they should be.
What?
Who knew such restraint
was even possible under such
pulsating desires? Who knew someone could be self-aware and then have the
presence of mind to steer clear of shameful behavior? And it would have been
shameful, make no mistake. The
self-serving world may say ten-thousand times that it's fine; it's great—sleep
with as many people as you want—it's all
good. But all it takes is for one small voice on a moonlit tropical island to
stand up for what is right, and it resonates within our souls.
Well, it resonated in
mine and Maddie's (and Jan's, and another friend—Jenny's).
And we're praying
it resonates in yours.
I'm glad we didn't give
up, but I wonder if any future season will hold a romantic candle to this
one—it may be time to quit watching.
We wish nothing but the
best for Emily, who last night only gave out roses, nothing more. One to
Arie and one to Jef (our favorite). Sean unfortunately came out of it
bloom-less.
Well, I guess that's it.
For now.
All in Goodwill,
~Lisa
P.S. Madonna, you might
want to take some mothering tips from Emily.
P.S.S
P.S.S
