I was taking a break from writing this past weekend. I sat down in front of the tv and I watched about 20 minutes of reality tv. I don’t even know what they call it these days, but I subjected myself to 20 minutes of The Real Housewives of Orange County. I’m not even embarrassed to say it. I watched it because I used to live in Orange County. I typically know where they’re going or where they’re driving to. I’m familiar with the neighborhoods and some of the restaurants that they end up in.
My normal rant about reality tv is that it is not. Reality TV is not reality – is my normal rant. But after watching some of it this weekend, I have to change that to —- Reality TV is a slice of reality. Don’t get me wrong, some of them still seem scripted. There is a bunch of editing I’m sure – with all the footage that they film. There’s a whole bunch of planned and canned footage, but there is a bunch of it that is definitely real.
The pain that they go through and the sense of loss that they go through – that’s real. The insecurity that they demonstrate – that’s real. The feeling of inadequacy and the strife that it brings in their relationships – that’s real. The sense of belonging and lack of it – that’s real.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a whole lot of stuff on that show that it’s real. If you’ve watched it, then you know what I’m talking about.
They might be acting. It might be scripted. It might be edited, but the human condition is real. The difference between them and you is that yours is still private.
It does remind me of a previous post about drama.