THE SEARCH FOR MR. ADEQUATE
Part 49

By Susan Silver

It is a new year after all, and though it started out rather badly, let’s look at the good side, shall we? The new Reality Shows have started and one good thing about being severely depressed and bedridden is … TV without guilt.

Although I do feel that watching the entire Alito hearings was paying my dues for evening fun.

‘The Bachelor,’ which started out to be every girl’s fantasy about finding the Prince (when we were still silly enough to think he existed) had its season’s debut last week. This time, not only is he a gorgeous seemingly nice guy, but he is a Doctor! And, be still my heart, the show is taking place in Paris.

There were twenty-five girls, thirteen of whom would be sent home the first night. Don’t unpack, you unlucky 13. They were a good bunch, pretty, bright and some accomplished. And then, there was a nutjob. Well, if you consider someone saying that her ”eggs were rotting” and the fact that she got hysterical and stalked him into explaining why he didn’t choose her nutty behavior in any way. Oh yeah, and in the tearful grilling she went down the checklist thusly: “Is it because I’m too short, not pretty enough, my breasts are too small?” Yes, yes and yes. Although he did exhibit his best bedside manner to ease her out of the house and one hopes, into a straitjacket.

Then, happily for me, another night of fun TV. ‘Dancing With the Stars’ returned. For those of you who have a life and have no idea what I’m referring to, it is a new hit show where C list celebrities are paired with stellar ballroom stars and learn to compete against each other in a variety of dances. It’s really fun and this season George Hamilton’s tan and teeth are competing with a six-foot-two stunning female wrestler among others, so its got a lot to recommend it. And, if you, as I, like dancing … but need lessons, well, hey this is your show.

Tatum O’Neal was eliminated early on and I felt rather bad, as I’ve never seen anyone quite so emotionally naked and needy. Squirm TV. There is also a hip-hop mogul who must be the only Black man on the planet who strangely cannot move to any rhythm. Jerry Rice, the famous football player is a doll and his quick feet have held him in good stead. And Lisa Rena, an ex soap star who is married to Harry Hamlin (which makes them one of the best looking couples alive) is very sexy even though her lips are on the verge of exploding. Stop the collagen before it kills again. Think Goldie Hawn in First Wives Club.

I am living only for the new ‘American Idol’ and then the slew of Award Shows. Though I’m no longer in the biz, I do like the glamour and fun of them. The first was the Golden Globes and herewith is a little capsule review for those of you who missed it. For those of you who don’t even know what the hell it is … a tiny group of foreign so-called Press have power way out of proportion to reality. Their party, which includes movies and TV and booze, unduly influences the Oscars and not always properly.

In no specific order of importance: George Clooney won Best Supporting Actor for Syriana and was adorable (still waiting for you to call me, George, Column 3) and made a very clever remark which included an off color and funny Jack Abramoff joke. Probably not funny to Tom Delay, but somehow I don’t see Mr. Delay glued to the Globes.

Lots of beautiful red dresses, and a very unfortunate green one on former child star of ‘ET,’ Drew Barrymore. Drew … ‘phone home,’ or at least call a lingerie store. You must wear a bra when they are not perky.

Poor Mariah Carey. Rumored to have used André Leon Talley from Vogue as a style coach after being criticized for former fashion faux pas, she was stuffed into a contraption of straps and sequins and her hair pulled back way too tightly. When you look like the Pillsbury Doughgirl, though cute, maybe emphasizing the roundness of one’s face is not the way to go.

Denzel Washington, who closed the evening with his presentation of Best Movie to ‘Brokeback Mountain,’ is sexy, classy and very cool.

I now turned to Celebrity Fit Club in which former child stars and assorted rock and roll has-beens who have become morbidly obese expose their almost naked abundant flesh for another fifteen minutes of fame. Seriously, it’s good that they are attacking their fat problem, but why does it have to be on TV? And why am I looking at it? I think I am having a nervous breakdown. More moving on …

Moving even further into the 21st Century

One thing about only appearing once a week is that there are so many things that come up daily that I’d love to comment on and waiting for Friday just isn’t Adequate. Get it?

So with the blessings of the Dear Editor, I am starting a blog for my every day musings and development of The Adequacy Scale, in addition to the ramblings here. A blog, in case you don’t do computer stuff, is the au courant, hot way journalists of all ilks spew out their deepest, innermost thoughts about news, politics and/or utterly mundane minutia and engage in conversations with everyone on the planet. As we know I want to expand my contacts so … now … me too!!!

As I mentioned last time, everything in life can, and yes … should be graded in Adequacy and the blog will give us the opportunity to that as well. So, Dear Reader, from now on, you can email me here as usual or go to my Blog which is http://mradequate.blogspot.com and we’ll talk about other things.

And perhaps you will create a dialogue with each other, as I so enjoy reading your comments to me!

But of course, I will be back here on Fridays to continue The Search and as promised, I have some thoughts on certain women who have perhaps found their Princes … or a reasonable facsimile thereof. But would we do what they did? Hmmmmmm … next time.

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