"yes sweetie, just like in the movies"

back from a whirlwind ride in the windy city. although chicago is rather chilly in the winter, some don't realize that the nickname "windy city" did not originate, in fact, as a reference to the weather, but to the political bluster over winning the bid to host the world's fair in the late 1800s. while the source of the "wind" has changed since then, chicago still plays host to two of the most culturally significant (and polar opposite) wind-makers in the country: oprah and jerry (no last names needed).

my latest work adventure led me deep into the heart of the latter show, aka "the worst show in the history of television" according to tv guide. as a bonus, i attended a taping of said show where i shamelessly chanted, cheered, and jeered along with the rest of the audience as the typical humiliation parade unfolded on stage in the same way it has in every episode since 1994. the topic, guests, and other theatrics are unimportant...suffice it to say, it was a deliciously entertaining white-trash circus, and the audience is definitely in the ring.

stepping back afterwards into the belly of the beast, so to say, i can't help but feel somewhat guilty over my unabashed amusement as the dignity of the guests was shredded on stage. not only do they do a bang-up job of ripping each other apart, but the audience might as well be a firing squad, as vicious comments are not only encouraged, but in many cases prompted.

we all know how the show works. maybe we haven't tuned in since the 90s, but we can zip down the formula without a refresher--white trash confronts other white trash, cheating, cross dressers, hookers, fights ensue. 16 years now, 200 some episodes a year, 30,000 some guests. 30,000? seriously, where do these people come from and haven't they ever watched an episode before? is the free trip to chicago worth the price of public degradation? magic eight ball seems to say yes...but the trip doesn't sell itself.

the segment producers who are charged with the task of sussing a story out of the drama, vetting through the bullshit, and getting these people from their trailer parks to the stage, are true masters of manipulation that could probably succeed in selling someone the brooklyn bridge. the title of this entry is quoted from a snippet of a phone conversation i overheard in the offices. the producer was attempting to explain to a future guest how to find the limousine in the chicago airport (likely after the guest's first flight ever). yes, apparently the lure of hollywood (err chicago), a few empty promises about time in the spotlight, and a limo is all it really takes.

it's more than a little frightening to consider the warped sense of reality in which these stereotypical middle-americans reside, leaving them so susceptible to the charms of the big city. after an hour or so of baring their souls (and often their bodies) to the cameras, the lights go down, and they're out like yesterday's garbage (pun). there is no attempt made to resolve the conflict, no tender moments, no dr. phil, and that's showbiz. the industry counts on the fact that many americans equate show business with the american dream--anyway in is a way up; screw the cost. but then, is my sense of reality really any better? while they're flying out on the first flight back to heartland, i'm at a bar laughing over and over at their expense before passing out at the four seasons and hopping a plane back to new york...you know, just like in the movies.