A Quivering Eye Pontificates on the Fab Five: My Reality Experience

Oh my God I llllllllllllllllluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Bravo’s ‘Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.’  I mean I llllllllllllllllluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv that show.  Have you seen it?  Five gay guys give a straight guy a makeover:  culture, home furnishings, food, grooming, clothes.  Talk about an evolution!

So I lllllllllllllllluuuuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvvvv that show.

Don’t ask me why.  Maybe it’s a projection of my need for transformation.  Maybe it’s knowing some women weren’t wrong, ‘ men need help!’  Maybe its … maybe it’s just darn entertaining and fun.  A reality show that actually makes you laugh and not at the participants.

But they the first season was only a few episodes.

But that’s okay.

I llllllllllluuuuuuuuvvvvvvvv that show.

So no complaint from me when for the last three months they’ve run the first season episodes over and over and over and over and over and over and … did I say over?  J  No I didn’t complain.  Didn’t watch all the episodes, over and over and over and over and over and over again.  But did watch them over and over and over and over and over.

I llllllllllluuuuuuuuvvvvvvvv that show.

It’s a total hoot (you can take the girl out of the country, but can’t take the country out of the gal).

Having lived in New York for almost 3 years I know how many pathetic people walk the face of this great earth.  Of course they’re all originally from some place else, but they’re New Yorkers now.

There was one guy with a bear back!!  No that’s not a typo.  His back looked like a frickin bear crawled over, up, died, and stayed.  If my hair stylist used that much tape to remove my unwanted hair … I didn’t know there was that much tape.  And the guy screamed.  Loud.  That was truly the best part.  Not only did he now know what women go through, he went through it all … in one visit.

Then there was the up and coming real estate guy (translation – He ain’t got no job.  He can’t find no job.)  Anyway he was meeting his girlfriend’s parents so of course the New Yorkie thing to do is offer drinks and a mini meal before they go eat.  And yes, the sushi was a mini meal.  At least in New York.  Sometimes it’s an entre too.

Anyway anyway, he was a basket case (like most of them), but worse.  He sweated, a lot.  Then he wiped his sweat on a towel – which he’d brought from the bathroom after he took a shower.  And as he fixed the sushi he wiped his hands – on the towel, which he brought from the bathroom and had wiped his sweat on.  If that wasn’t bad enough he forgot how to make drinks so he made up his own instructions – one tumbler, add a few ice cubes, a splash of water or soda, then fill to the brim with liquor.  The eyes of his no longer future father-in-law told the whole story – this guy is friggin nuts.  And an alcoholic.  Without a real job.

I love those transformations.

But my favorite ones by far are those with the really happy ever after endings.  Like the artist who wanted to really get it going with some galleries but knew he didn’t come close to looking as good as his art work.  And by the way how can that be?  You can create these masterpieces that scream “I have taste and class and a sense of color and design”, yet your wardrobe looks tasteless, classless, drab, not by design.

So they transform this guy and his apartment and set up a gallery showing for his art and invite all his friends.  Here’s another fun part.  Before they see the new ‘him’, the show interviews family, friends, and anyone else who will say something pathetic about Mr. To Be Transformed.  No, that’s not the fun part.  The fun part is after looking at these people you wonder, ‘they have the nerve to crack?  Dag.’

Okay so Mr. Now I’m Transformed nee Mr. Pathetic walks in looking mucho hot hot hot.  And he worked that room like a hooker at a church convention.  Did I say that.  Shoot.  I mean, Army convention.

Girls who previously had not considered Mr. Transformed worth a two bit moment became four bit ho’s and I ate it up.  Chewed the pop and sucked the stick.  Wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right either.  But I swear I was thinking about tootsie roll pops.  So if your mind went where mine slowly did, shamy.  Shamy.  Shamy.  Shamy.

So after endless reruns, I was ready for the new season.

Tuesday nite.

10 pm central.

Bravo.

Oh, did I tell you another great part for me is, it’s set in New York.  The capital of capitals of the world.  If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere.  It’s up to me, New York, Neeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwww York.  Da da, da da da da, da da, da da da da, da da, da da da da da, Neeeeeeeeewwwwwwww York!

There is no better city.

And before you say what about San Francisco because the gay quotient is high.  No, no, no.  The energy level compared to New York, is oh so low.

So the shops.  The spas.  My hang outs.  The restaurants.  The drive bys.  I luved it.  From the Lower East cantinas to the bombing Bronx huts.

I love New York.

And don’t tell me, ‘if you love it so much, you should go back.’  That is not what this commentary is about.  It’s about Queer Eye.

The new season.

I gave up going out.  Yes, I could have taped it but it’s like im’ing, you have to be there to share.

Who would it be?

After the success of the first year, the second was sure to start off with a bang.

9:58, 9:59.  I’m getting excited.

10:00 … 10:01.  Dag my clock is fast.

Then.  Yes, there it is.  The music.  The Fav Five.  My queer guys waiting for their straight guy.

YES!!

Uhhhhh, no.

What is this?

They’re going to New Jersey.

THE FIRST EPISODE IS GOING TO NEW JERSEY!!  YOU HAVE GOT TO BE )(*(*&%$%*& KIDDING ME.

But they weren’t.

And the show was horrible.

Instead of a willing metrosexual, they were …

… in Jersey.

The state of no left turns, or self-service pumps.  You think that’s a good thing?  Sure you do.  And I’m going to watch you give your credit card to a man you’ve never seen while you sit in the car and he runs it … to the nearest corner.  It has larceny written all over it.

And to my Jersey readers, keep reading.  There’s more.

Why are they in Jersey??

In a suburb?

With a lawn?

And a split-level house.

Where dead things hang on the wall.

Oh dear, here’s the hippie dad.  Yeah, that’s exciting.

The little burbie mom.  Boring.

Their 14 year old looks like she’s going on 40 daughter.  That has possibilities.

And now their 18 year old son.  Oh, he’s gay.  They don’t know it but he’s gay.

Gosh I’m being catty.

But I don’t care.

Those people in New Jersey made a choice to be there.

To be … that.

Even if you give them a great makeover, who will care!  Who will see it?

Just more people from New Jersey.

Who don’t count.

And never go anywhere.

But to other suburbs in New Jersey.

I don’t do suburbs.

I don’t hang with a lot of people who do or live in suburbs.

It’s geographically inconvenient.

It’s …

I am so pissed.

And now bored.

This show is really boring.

And to top it off, the Fab Five have gone Hollywood.

It’s all glossy and stuff.

I’m not buying it.

It’s too rehearsed.

I attended this church in New York, no I’m not name dropping and no I’m not going to tell you what church.  And you won’t guess so don’t try.  Anyway the pastor, let’s call him Mr. J.  Every time he gave a sermon you knew he’d spent 4 hours looking in the mirror – grooming.  And 1 hour on the sermon content.  All polish, no passion.  Can I say French martinis at the Waldorf!!  Not that it was near the church or anything.

I don’t like this season.

My friends are screaming for me to shut up.  They’re trying to watch.  But I can tell this is gonna just keep going down, down, down, down, …

Oh my God are they toasting with Pepsi.  Shall I say product placement!!!

This isn’t why I watch queer eye!!!

This isn’t why anyone watches queer eye!!!

I loved this show so much I had decided there should be a straight gal for the queer pals.  Don’t laugh.  Last week Variety reported that some studio honcho heard my thinking (that’s my ad=lib) and the straight gal and queer pals was a reality for next season, possibly mid-season.

My life is over.

I’m still bored.

My friends are now bored.

The Fab 5 look bored, and stilted and forced.

The Jersey family is happy.

Their friends are happy.

Except the one Soprano guy who looks like he wandered in just to eat the food.

Oh and before I forget, except for a hair cut and removal of the dead things on the wall, I don’t see much transformation.

I hate reality shows.

I’m giving them up … except for American Idol and Newlyweds: Jessica and Nick.

But what do I do now on Tuesday nights?

Hmm, what about a ‘Queer Eye for the Straight Guy with the Quivering Eye??’

Set in Chicago (closer to home).

Hey that’s a good idea.  I wonder if …

Maybe I’d better not think too loud.

P. S. Albeit true, this is a tongue-in-where ever look at one reality show. Yours truly isn’t that snobbish and catty.

P.P.S.  The second episode – sucked too.  And was in Jersey again.  I am soooooo through.