Television has changed dramatically since its inception many moons ago. There was a time before now, where shows actually achieved their intended purpose. Like comedy shows that would make people laugh. It was a time when everybody knew your name and we all wanted directions to Gunther’s place where six friends used to hang out. It was a time when a semi-naked woman could run for 45 minutes in a red bikini and it was considered drama. Where a question like “Who shot JR Ewing?” would have broken Twitter.
It was a time before shows with catch phrases like “The tribe has spoken” gave a million smackaroos to a nudist, after conniving and cheating and lying his way to top. What happened to good ole’ sleeping your way to the top, may I ask? Now we sit with a tsunami of unscripted, condescending crap, filling the empty spaces between advertisements.
And all my hate of all things reality disappear into an abyss of overreaction and apologetic behavior as soon as I have the opportunity of seeing one of my kids on national television. Even if it is in a reality show of sorts. It remains a basic human reaction to enjoy the five seconds of fame, if and when it lands in your lap. Explaining why normal, composed people turn into monkeys on crack as soon as they see a camera swing in their general direction.
Dude had such a moment. He was on TV. Yes, my Dude. He was part of a semi-scripted show and had to deliver one line which he did flawlessly, in my humble opinion. Even though I’m not sure how many takes were involved.
I was excited at the prospect of seeing him do his thing. And when he did it, I was ecstatic, running around like a lotto winner before hearing about the tax obligation. I was so proud of Dude and my first instinct was to tell every single person I know about his amazing performance on the small screen. The wife didn’t think it was such a good idea because (1) By the time I got up from the chair, Dude was no longer on the screen and (2) We wouldn’t be able to afford the resulting telephone bill. I proposed a second mortgage on our house but she still didn’t share my enthusiasm.
I think I have some understanding of how Bruce Jenner must have felt when he saw his little girl with the big butt, Kim Kardashian, aka Kanye’s bitch, on his screen for the first time. I’m using the words “some understanding” carefully because I don’t really know what if feels like to be Bruce Jenner. To be in his stiletto’s as it were. Mainly because Bruce Jenner is now called Caitlyn and she’s hailed as a hero after spending a small country’s budget on plastic surgery, in order to wear a dress, put on some make-up and still look like a man in a bikini. It’s also quite obvious to note that a parent might seem less enthusiastic about the first appearance of their little girl in a home made sex-tape.
And this provides another example of how modern television can turn an amateur porn star into a celebrity with no relevance whatsoever…
Back to Dude.
Even though his little skit was very short, it took his parents a loooong time to find the best screen shot to capture on their smart phones for generations to come. The process of finding the perfect expression was made extremely difficult due to the short time Dude had to show his acting ability with a range of emotion that went from intrigue to disappointment to anger and end with embarrassment before the camera moved on. Dude was amazing in every single frame of the limited time he appeared on screen, but then again, I might be slightly biased.
Being the proud parents we are, the screenshot was also posted on Facebook, so that we could embarrass our teenage son even more.
At least we showed some restraint in our celebration of his first appearance on television by not blogging about it.