It’s said that some people watch NASCAR in hopes of seeing a high-speed crash. I’m not a fan of auto racing, but I have found myself irresistibly drawn to watching a series on BRAVO TV called, “The Real Housewives of Atlanta” because I guess I’m waiting to see a huge fireball of uncontrolled emotion explode on the screen. The barely concealed desperation of the ‘housewives’ keeps threatening to break through.
Glued to the set, I find myself alternating between, “I can’t believe I’m wasting my time watching this dross” and “Oh, no. It’s even more tacky and dreadful than I expected. Give me more, more, more! I love being distracted by bright shiny objects.”
We should probably make every teenager watch this show just to be able to say to them, “See what happens when you give in to glitzy excess and make sleazy glamor your idol?” Money may be no object to any of the show’s wives, but the whole thing reeks of cheap. What comes before nouveau riche?
What is consoling about this show, however, is that beneath all the heavy layers of makeup, gaudy jewelry and imperfectly supressed insecurities there remains lots of real human warmth and dignity. Couples love and support one another, parents care for their children and several of the participants seek for harmony and reconciliation.
It was, after all, Gerard Manley Hopkins who pointed out: