Curmudgeon-ing with the Stars

How many of you are into that Dancing with the Stars thing? Its okay, admitting you have a problem is the first step toward being ostracized, ridiculed, and eventually learning to keep things like this to yourself. It'll toughen you up to put your foibles out on the table where we all can get a good laugh at them. Personally, I've never watched the show - you see, old DC isn't much for national trends...if the nation could elect George Bush twice, I think their record speaks for itself. In spite of that, I actually do have an issue with Dancing with the Stars - what, you're suprised?

You ever watch those nature programs about animal intelligence? You know, the ones where they teach a chimp to to push a certain button when it sees a certain picture? Or maybe you’ve been to Sea World and where they have the sea lions that play Yankee Doodle Dandy on horns? My point is this, yes it’s impressive that Bubbles can tell the difference between a house and a cat (trust me, in the time he spent with Michael Jackson he learned less savory tricks than button pressing) but is it really that much more amazing than your Irish Setter rolling over or playing dead for a Beggin’ Strip? I'd never claim that Rex is ready for a black tie and an hour of prime time 'cause he does a mean 'shake hands'.

Then tell me, why is it amazing when a handful of Hollywood’s second (or third) tier celebs get daily doses of intensive dance tutoring to do one dance - and then they’re actually able to do it? What, they haven’t been tap-dancing for the cameras their whole career? And they're learning a routine - folks, it's just like learning lines, only with their feet! If they had to go out on the dance floors you and I vist - the ones with the walleyed guy who dances at one-third the tempo of the music and couple who think they've just finished a command performance at the Bolshoi - well, maybe I'd be mildly impressed...or at least less disgusted. Or maybe I'd cut them some slack if they got their prescious private tutoring and then had to dance to a random tune played by some weekend-job band who can't quite decide if Fly Me to the Moon is a foxtrot or a cha-cha.

What would be more amazing would be to teach some of the fauna from the local tavern to dance – now I'd watch that show. Nothing like seeing some of the same schmos I have to deal with every weekend get a chance to make asses of themselves in front of the TV audience. Or, better yet, take a bunch of the Dancing with the Stars, B-list celebs to the local day-labor site and set them up as dry wall installers, painters, or lawnmower jockeys. Hell yes, I’d watch Kristi Yamaguchi do the weed-whacker tango any night of the week…except Mondays during football season; some things are sacred even to old DC.