Unless you have been living under a rock for the past several years, you are aware of the cultural phenomenon known as The Bachelor/ette. If not, it is a reality show that promises to help
some poor sap a lucky man, or woman find their soulmate. The show’s track record so far ain’t so hot; out of the ninety-nine seasons which have aired, there have been two successful marriages.
Yet people keep coming back for more. True, the contestants are paid, pampered, wined, and dined, but we all know what the Good Book says about the love of money: it’s a root of all kinds of evil. The fact remains that some, questionable though their judgment may be, are really there for love. Others, as we’ve established are there for the money. Still others are there for the fleeting notoriety they get by being on the show.
I understand this perhaps best of all. I have done questionable things to make my name known. It may work for a time, but the truth wins out. We all of us have an inner “Holden Caulfield,” are thus able to sniff out “phonies.”