Friday, December 5, 2008
COLUMNIST'S LOG
Day One
The night before Thanksgiving. I'm watching Rosie O'Donnell's live variety show special on NBC. My reaction tåo the show itself is much the same as it was when I first saw an ad for it: “Whaaaaa?” She opens with an extended riff on Spanx, and it goes downhill from there. With invariably flat comedy bits, awkward interactions with guest stars and vaguely interesting musical acts, it plays less like a variety show and more like a low-end awards show with no awards to give out. It succeeds only by making me wish Thomas Edison had never invented live television. Not even a dance squad that prominently features Segway scooters can save the night. I cry myself to sleep.
Day Two
Thanksgiving. I'm still recovering from Rosie Live. I gorge on turkey more than usual in hopes that it will help me forget about the travesty I witnessed the night before. I then realize that tryptophan does not induce amnesia. I pass out and wake up in a poorly lit hospital room. The doctor tells me my stomach was pumped. This reminds me of a liposuction joke Rosie had told on the show. I shriek in terror. The nurses sedate me.
Day Three
I'm back home, though not fully recovered. I read an article online: The Live Feed reports that Rosie's special drew only 5 million viewers. Only five million? That's five million people who are experiencing the same awful things I am. Five million people witnessed a talent showcase that spent most of its time talking about how little talent it actually contained. If five million people had the ebola virus, suddenly it would be a big deal. The only difference is that Rosie Live didn't liquefy my internal organs.
Day Four
The day passes without incident, but when I close my eyes, I can still see the nonsensical closing number: Rosie and Gloria Estefan sing about Thanksgiving (or something) as grown men dressed as various desserts prance about. I shiver.
Day Five
Rosie announces on her blog: "there will b no more. no ratings. bad reviews. yet still – a thrill 4 me." The No. 1 threat to America — a regular Rosie variety show series — has been vanquished. But I hope this doesn't put an end to the attempt to revive variety shows altogether. All they really need is a host that isn't divisive, wholly unlikable and bereft of talent. Variety shows used to be the territory of huge stars like Johnny Cash and Dean Martin, comedic geniuses like the Smothers Brothers and lovable couples like Sonny and Cher or Captain & Tennille. The only way Rosie has stayed visible in recent years is by feuding with a hairpiece-wearing real estate mogul/reality show purveyor.
There's still hope. This summer it was announced that Elvis Costello would have his own variety show on the Sundance Channel. Although it's a shame that it will air on a channel almost nobody gets, at least it will have an opportunity to show kids these days what a real variety show looks like.
Day Six
Although I'm getting better every day, my newly hired therapist said I should work though my trauma by writing about it. So I wrote this column.
It's a struggle. But we can get through this.
— — Nichols is an Overland Park sophomore in creative writing.
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