Whisperings from Whispered Pearls

IMPORTANT NOTE: Posted by Maureen, not Michelle.

Some listeners may know the story of one of the most interesting men (and lovers) in my life. At the time of my reporting, he was 90-plus-something. Currently, he is describing himself as 100-minus-something. For a few weeks several years ago, he tested me by trying to pretend he was actually ten years younger. But I had seen the website with his birthdate and place, there was no pretending.

Outside of the fact that you may be able to fool biology with botox and surgery for a while, yet the closer you approach 100, the harder it is to lie about it. Or, at least, that’s the current state of things. Perhaps if he had done something differently: eaten less meat, done fewer drugs (he was a doctor that could prescribe his own), had less occasion to drink (isn’t dinner an occasion?), swam more laps…

One variable he never dallied with was sex. Were it up to him, he would still use every minute to create opportunity. The fact that he is now accompanied around-the-clock by a woman his son installed in his life (due to his own unavailability or desire to do that job) puts the brakes on that perhaps all-important fountain of youth found in the deep wells of sexual satisfaction.

Or does it? My love and concern for this man has never stopped. So I make it a point to be near him as often as my crazy life allows. There is a natural barrier between this “new woman” and myself: she is from Peru and speaks Spanish, Portuguese and French. My German and English don’t get us anywhere, and my French is appallingly rudimentary. The body language, even before a word has been uttered, is clear: this is now her territory. I am not particularly welcome, absolutely not trusted (what could I possibly want from this man?!) and eyed with suspicion.

Only after several failed attempts at clarification and one arduous shopping journey where we tried to figure each other out (it wasn’t as if I could say point-blank: “look, sister, this is a former lover I am deeply concerned about and want to spend as much time with as possible before he meets his maker, just get out of the way and let us enjoy a few hours…”) did it occur to me that, well, perhaps she wasn’t just doing the wash and making him lunch. Perhaps he HAD, in fact…

There you have it: men can conjur up jealousy spats between women at 98 years of age. Believe it.

I have no idea where the whole thing will go. I know only two things: I’m determined to polish up on my French. And love is truly the most amazing, unpredictable, fascinating thing.

I admit it. I’m a girl, and I’m addicted to The Bachelor/Bachelorette.

It was one of the reality shows that hooked me from the very beginning, with its attempts at classy romance. Lush locales, pretty clothes, elegant people. I loved it.

I’ve watched nearly all the seasons of both shows (all episodes). Didn’t care for the Navy guy (who chose no one in the end) or the blond guy (I think second season.) Other than that, I was pretty much there. I’ve seen their twists and turns, but by and large, it was predictable. And we LIKED THAT.

It’s fairly simple, really. Classy women wanna see a classy woman (or man) choose another classy man (or woman), and take them on elegant dates. Simple formula. It works. Don’t mess with it.

That is one thing that reality shows should have learned from the first season of Survivor, and we know from Twitter. Leave people to themselves, and they’ll surprise the heck out of you. Just thinking of that speech of Sue’s from the final Tribal Council gives me chills now.

The Bachelor series has been fairly free from controversy. Other than the guy picking the girl, then dumping her last season, and re-picking the previous girl, in front of a national audience, there wasn’t a whole lotta drama. (Don’t worry about the dumped Melissa. She went from tears on The Bachelor, to finalist in Dancing with the Stars, to a cushy gig with ABC News.)

People thought that whole thing was fake. To me, it seemed very very real.

This season, though… We have a wonderful new Bachelorette, another dumpee from last season’s Bachelor. By and large, she seems pretty straightforward and smart. Except for this whole nonsense with Wes. The Twitterverse is also starting to talk about how this was a producer manipulation, and not real. “Cause how could she be that stupid?”

For those of you not hanging by your TV every week, here is the basic gist. Wes is a musician. With a band. His deal for going on the show is to promote his music. He doesn’t give a crap about the girl. In fact, he has a girlfriend back at home in Austin, TX.

Now, what’s really fishy about this right from the start is that you know the producers vette the crap out of every contestant. Checking and rechecking and rechecking again so that no craziness shows up when they least expect it.

Either the producers are really losing their touch this season, or they planned all this. My roommate even thinks that Wes isn’t a “guy,” that he’s actually an actor. Because what we we’re seeing is Wes, trash talking the girl (Jillian) to his buddies in the guys’ house, then being all nice to her and telling her there was no problem. It’s brought up MORE THAN ONCE, the reveal actually spans three episodes.

And, bizarrely, she KEEPS him for two of those three episodes, finally getting rid of him this week.

When he’s trash talking her, he says stuff like he’s only there for his music, he doesn’t care about the girl. He just wants publicity for his band. When he takes Jillian on a hometown date, there’s Wes’ band. SURPRISE!

Now, I will say this: to the producers’ credit, they showed as little of his music as possible. Didn’t even really show his band (thankfully). They made the camera shots ALL about Jillian. Still. Wes was there.

It felt very much like Wes was manipulating Jillian, but it felt just as much that the producers were manipulating us. And it’s really never felt that way before. Not since “Johnny Fairplay” lied about his grandmother on Survivor has an audience (and show) been so manipulated and used.

Wes is in the limo, boasting about how he got to fourth place, while having a girlfriend. That’s something to boast about? That you AND YOUR FAMILY lied on national TV? That’s gonna sell records for you? And sell out your upcoming tour? Really? You think so?

I dunno. Maybe I live a sheltered life, but the people I see and interact with in social media are all about transparency and truth-telling. That’s the currency we trade on these days. So while everyone is steaming about what a colossal jerk Wes is, I think I’m a bit more mad about this season’s producers, who added all kinds of hokeyness this season: from the Amazing Race-style treasure hunt to the weird foot fetish guy to this guitar-playing Wes.

Just give us our Bachelor, straight up. No muss, no fuss, and especially no Wes. Thanks.