Against my better judgment, I am watching this season of "The Bachelorette," and after getting through the first two episodes I feel like the producers may have reached through my television and given me a lobotomy.
Perhaps all that needs to be said is that there is a guy who not only made it onto the show, but has now lasted through two Rose Ceremonies, while wearing a mask.
Now, I understand that a lot of these dudes (a) only do this show to bolster their faint hopes of getting a walk-on role on some pitiful soap opera (see: that guy from the Real World Chicago who ended up on Passions), and/or (b) feel like they need to come up with a gimmick to make themselves memorable. And, of course, the producers will do anything, absolutely anything under the sun, to make this appear to be the Most! Dramatic! Season! Ever!
So I can only conjecture, if I am giving him the largest benefit of the doubt possible, that Mr. Mask offhandedly or even jokingly suggested in some production meeting that he might wear a mask when he got out of the limo to meet the Bachelorette, and that translated into the producers telling him that he HAD to wear the mask 24 hours a day, and in fact he should forgo interacting with the other contestants in favor of skulking about in the background, as if he were auditioning to be the next Phantom of the Opera.
And there's no justification I can think of for the Bachelorette keeping him around, other than at the producers' insistence. Because, I'm sorry, if I were standing there in some sparkly dress, hoping to find my husband through a (ridiculous, contrived) reality show, and a guy got out of the limo wearing a mask, I would first burst out laughing, then look around for the "TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes" crew (remember that show? Along with "Real People" it was one of my faves in elementary school -- I still recall the wacky prank they pulled on a leather bomber jacket-wearing Kirk Cameron), THEN tell the guy, politely but firmly, to please get back in the limo and return to wherever he came from.
Between the masked man, the guy with a daughter named Cozy (!) who is "not there for the right reasons" (much as they bandy that phrase about with frivolity EVERY single season, this time it appears to be true, since he completely trashes the B-ette behind her back, then cozies (see how I did that?) up with her by the fire as a way of staying in the game), and the MANY contenders who have lost relatives or spouses and/or had other Major Life-Changing Events, it feels a bit like having gone down the rabbit hole. Send help.
Or bananas.
Unrelatedly, here are some photos from our long weekend, which was mostly good except for the ten years that were shaved off my life when a technical glitch led me to believe that a brief I'd worked on for many hours had disappeared into the ether. (Fortunately, some computer genius types recovered it, and I did not have to jump out the window.)
Aside from that and a lingering cough that has just about rendered Joe deaf (I am super attractive), we had lots of quality family time frolicking in the park, exploring the museum, visiting the animals at the zoo, and trying to introduce Felicity to the fun of playground sprinklers -- she was curious at first ("Water! Water!"), then skeptical, then clingy as a baby monkey. Maybe she will warm to it as summer wears on.
Finally, Felicity has discovered twirling, and it is now one of her favorite things to do. I believe my work here is done.

































