|
Pigskin, perchance a peepshow? Ay there’s the rub, but first a
story.
A few years ago I came home to find that our house had been
burglarized. We lost a few things of value, like our peace of mind, but it was
mostly just stuff.
By the time we received the insurance check I had become accustomed
to living without a television. Scratch that; I had begun to prefer it and to
the dismay of our children I was in no hurry to get another.
About a year-and-a-half later I caved. That’s not exactly right
either; the kids had finally given up but it was Super Bowl week and the game
day party we usually attended fell through. Heaven help me, sometimes I can’t
help being a guy.
So now we have a TV, the Super Bowl is again around the corner,
and I find myself nostalgic for the break-in. It’s not that I enjoy having my
house ransacked, nor do I suddenly have a problem with football. The game
barely meets the definition of TV violence, except in the bleachers.
Unfortunately most programming isn’t as uplifting.
The networks unlucky enough to fill air time against the Super Bowl
generally blow the dust off “Joanie Loves Chachi” reruns so viewers won’t think
they’re off the air, which would probably make more financial sense. This year,
though, NBC plans to fight back. How do you attack a ratings phenomenon like
the Super Bowl? With sex, and while the networks like us to believe they offer
drama, sitcoms, and movies, the real selections are sex, violence, and precious
little else.
Witness “Fear Factor,” the biggest primetime geek show running. The
concept plays like something dreamed up by sixth-grade boys, with contestants
enduring a string of gross-outs until the challenger with the strongest stomach
wins a $50,000 prize.
Tempting fare, though not enough to pull significant audience
share from the game. That’s where sex comes in: NBC will premier a special
80-minute Playboy Playmate edition of “Fear Factor” during halftime.
What makes
this an interesting move is that past efforts to siphon off Super Bowl ratings
have been geared toward women. Yet I am struggling to envision women thumbing
through TV listings, telling their husbands “I know it’s the Super Bowl, honey,
but I just hate football and ... hey, here’s something we could watch!”
No, NBC is taking aim at the Super Bowl’s prime demographic and must
reckon that super Sunday is the one day men dominate the remote. Rather than
induce women to wrest it away, they’re apparently hoping it will be easier to
persuade guys to change the channel.
NBC is
revealing little about the stunts planned for super “Fear Factor” though they
promise some will involve water. Well, you could knock me over with a feather.
Playmates in swimsuits, who’d have thought? If Jell-O signs up as a sponsor I
just might organize a boycott.
The gimmick could very well work, but why? OK I know why; like I
said, I’m a guy. Still I’m not convinced that masculinity requires one to
surrender to every base impulse. Watching Playmates in thongs wrestle a greased
python doesn’t necessarily mean a fellow will go out after the show and wreck
his marriage, though the greatest challenge of a principled life may be
harmonizing one’s outside appearances and inner thoughts. It is good that
people can’t read minds; it would be better if it didn’t matter.
Where we allow our musings to wander does matter if we choose a life
of faith over facades. It is true that actions speak louder than words, but our
thoughts scream above both – even if no one else hears.
© 1997 – 2002 Brent Morrison
|
