There’s definitely something about watching a plastic surgeon do his or her work that makes you want to keep going on the treadmill.
Lately I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard, and wherever there’s stationary bikes and elliptical machines there’s bound to be televisions these days. It’s called the “cardio theater.”
The gym at Southeastern, the Pennington Student Activity Center, has a cardio theater of about 12 television sets tuned to the old standbys — CBS, NBC, ABC, etc.
Gymgoers bring in their headphones and plug into a tuner that allows them to switch between audio feeds from the TVs, though the equipment at this particular gym is in need of repair.
One’s enjoyment of television, I’ve found, is directly proportional to the size and comfort of the couch one is lounging on to view it, most of the time. The tastiness of the accompanying snack or beverage seems to help, too.
It becomes a bit harder to enjoy, or even pay attention, to television when your heart rate is 170 and you’re dripping in sweat.
Luckily, someone at the gym had the foresight to park one of the TVs on E! Entertainment television. Because as much perkiness as Katie Couric brings to the “CBS Evening News,” hearing about suicide bombs and earthquakes doesn’t help a person’s drive to exercise.
On E!’s “Dr. 90210,” Dr. Robert Rey and his band of surgeons slice and dice lots of young women from Beverly Hills, Calif.
It’s a straight-forward reality show, minus the graphic plastic surgery footage. Viewers even follow Rey into his private life (on one recent episode Rey’s wife laments that their new house is — get this — too big). On another, Rey goes to Venezuela to try to figure out why the women there are so beautiful. Rey puts up with perfectly beautiful exotic dancers who apparently need bodily improvements in order to work. I pity them and turn up the resistance on my machine.
I’m more of a believable candidate for plastic surgery than 75 percent of Rey’s patients, but I like to change my body the old-fashioned way. It’s cheaper and a whole lot less painful.
It’s interesting to marvel at the shallow thought processes at work on the show, though. And watching someone get lipo-suctioned is a great motivator, for me at least.
But E!’s depictions of geniuses at work don’t stop there. “The Girls Next Door” centers on the charmed lives of “Playboy” founder Hugh Hefner’s three girlfriends.
They basically play with their dogs, lounge by the pool and go on trips to Las Vegas every now and then.
One of Hefner’s girlfriends, Holly Madison, seems to have a bit of a business venture going on designing Playboy logo jewelry and clothing.
Bridget Marquardt, another girlfriend, actually has a bachelor of arts in public relations, a master’s in communication and is working on another master’s in broadcast journalism. But when she opens her mouth, she sounds like she’s in the eighth grade.
I guess I’m fascinated with the fact that power and money can make a normal-looking 80-year-old man attractive to 25-year-old women.
Or maybe it’s the fact that Hefner’s harem treats the “girlfriend” title more as a job, with other girlfriends leaving to pursue acting or modeling careers and asking another to be “main” girlfriend (that title belongs to Madison presently).
Either way, the combination of plastic surgery, fitness-crazed playmates and less-than-stellar IQs makes me feel really good about myself.
I’m not famous, skinny or rich, but I don’t need to be to be happy. E!’s mindless shows have shown me that, in a sick and twisted kind of way.
And if television can’t do that, what can it do?
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4 comments:
Quote -> "One’s enjoyment of television, I’ve found, is directly proportional to the size and comfort of the couch one is lounging on to view it, most of the time. The tastiness of the accompanying snack or beverage seems to help, too."
Not to mention those "Worlds Finest Chocolate Bars" the kids are selling now :-). Each section divided perfectly for every commercial break. Sinful, I know :-)
Quote ->"Because as much perkiness as Katie Couric brings to the “CBS Evening News,” hearing about suicide bombs and earthquakes doesn’t help a person’s drive to exercise. "
You can say that again. Heck, come to think of it, watching too much of the news at any given time of the day is enough to run me out of fuel, and not have the energy to do much of anything at all. Like you said in a prior blog, Renee, "It makes my head hurt". I, too, agree.
Quote ->" Rey puts up with perfectly beautiful exotic dancers who apparently need bodily improvements in order to work. I pity them and turn up the resistance on my machine"
Oh yes indeed. I'm absoltely heart-broken as well. (Psh.)
"I’m more of a believable candidate for plastic surgery than 75 percent of Rey’s patients, but I like to change my body the old-fashioned way. It’s cheaper and a whole lot less painful."
Agreed again! Other than childbirth, I keep a healthy distance from physicians as much as possible :-).
Quote ->"I guess I’m fascinated with the fact that power and money can make a normal-looking 80-year-old man attractive to 25-year-old women."
Okay, now, here we may disagree. IMO, men just generally get better looking as they get older - silver hair and all. Very distinguished, although I would not exactly catagorize Hef as "distinguished" looking. Just living in a mansion with tons of money is enough for many women, but not me :-).
Quote ->"I’m not famous, skinny or rich, but I don’t need to be to be happy. E!’s mindless shows have shown me that, in a sick and twisted kind of way."
I'm none of the three either, but still know in my heart without a doubt, I am truly blessed and one of the luckiest people alive. Are they?
I could go on and on about this topic, but at the moment, my 9 month old beckons for a nap. And no matter how tired I can be, no matter how crowded the house may get, I wouldn't trade my life for all of the Hef's, Rey's, mansions, or perfect bodies in the world.
Too bad plastic surgery is only available for outside appearance of a person, but not all of the luxuries in the world can change a bad attitude on the inside. Nice topic, Renee!
Hmm... don't put a school kid with those chocolate bars anywhere near me!
Tonight is "My Name is Earl" and "The Office" night, and my boyfriend and I are already planning a run to Marble Slab Creamery *after* we hit the gym.
Well, at least I can say I'm just replacing the calories, right?!
Thanks Alissa!!!!!!! :)
And tonight for me is folding clothes in front of the tube with - you guessed it - ER. Why oh why do I continue to watch this show that is merely a shadow of what it used to be? To answer that ~ in a word ....
Kovach.
'Nuff said.
Latest guilty pleasure? House of Carters. Lordy - that's some messed up little dudes in that house.
The most effective cure for any inferiority complex is found much more locally. No need to search on television to feel better about one's intelligence or physical beauty when Mayor Mayson Foster is only a few blocks away.
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