Recently, I had someone so diplomatically ask me what my "ridiculous obsession with American Gladiators" was all about. I corrected them that it was not so much the AGs itself, but all competition reality shows. But then I realized that this obsession came about through watching the original AGs in my youth, so then the antelopes ate the grass, and we are all connected in the great circle of multi-media entertainment life.
Imagine it: 1992. Saturday mornings, I would sit my eleven year old bum down on the old scratchy white couch in the family room with a bowl full of Cracklin' Oat Bran. Flipping past such shows as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Captain Bucky O'Hare and the Toad Wars, Captain Nintendo, and Gummi Bears, I would land on the one show I had been waiting for 6 painfully long days to watch: American Freaking Gladiators. Diamond! Ice! The Atlasphere! That angled treadmill that everyone has trouble getting up during the Eliminator! An hour of glazed eyes and spoonfuls of cereal later, it was back to waiting another 6 days for awesome gladiatoriness. I don't remember much else of my childhood. I think there were siblings and an older couple I think I referred to as "Mom" and/or "Dad"...no, American Gladiators and Cracklin' Oat Bran. That was it.
Time passed. My sister Heather/Heater tried out for Survivor.
America's Next Top Model? No. I'm not a model and I don't want to get yelled at by Tyra.
Top Chef? Nyet. I think going a day without burning water is a triumph.
Project Runway? Unless I can use a hot glue gun to sew stuff together, then no.
So You Think You Can Dance? No, I actually can't.
America's Next Most Smartest Model? YIKES.
Iron Chef? "Get Ready For....Battle HOT POCKETS!"
Well, I'll think of something. Any suggestions?