VH1's "I Can't Get A Date"

VH1’s I Can’t Get A Date


     VH1 has a new reality show that has me hooked called “I Can’t Get A Date.” They take someone that has problems dating, and investigate what is holding them back. The camera plays the interviewer, and delves into what is going wrong by asking how the subject meets people, where they meet people, what do they do to make conversation, how their last date went, and how long they dated their last partner.

     What I like best about this show is how the interviewer plays a sort of guardian angel in real time. They have a very comfortable conversation about what is going on with the subject, but at the same time, the interviewer does not hesitate in either correcting the subject, or reminding them that they are slipping back into bad habits. The interviewer even speaks to the subject in real time when they add a third person into the mix. The third person is usually a clothing retailer, a hair stylist or an expert of some sort. Also, they are not afraid to ask a professional person’s opinion about the subject or about dating itself.

     What we have discovered with the first four subjects (we’ll call them episodes), is that people tend to build their own walls to compensate for a lack of self-esteem. Sometimes, that comes in the form of “I know they’re not going to like me, so I’m going to make sure they don’t like me. That way, it’s not ‘me’ that they are not liking but my façade.” There’s also the, “I’m going to hide this, because I can only see how ugly it is. If someone likes me, it’s cause they haven’t seen ‘this’ (whatever the “this” may be) yet.” Everything else so far seems to be variations of those two.

     I cannot put my finger on what draws me to this show. I guess there’s sincerity to it that most reality television lacks. No one is trying to be TV’s next “reality star.” These are real people with the truest desire to be with someone to which every, every, everybody can relate. Also, you’re watching a positive reality show for a change. Sometimes it is tough-love, but it is love nevertheless.

One Year Later

Last March, my mother passed away. Last July, my father followed. The feeling I had at the second passing is so overwhelming, that I still cannot describe it. Mainly, this is because I am not even sure if there is only one feeling, or if you rotate feelings in some attempt to process parts of a whole much too big for one person to handle. I’ll tell you this much; my scalp tingled and I could not stop smirking. If there is a name for that feeling, please let me know.
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Sometimes I describe myself as a spiritual person. I believe in some sort of higher power. I believe that energy cannot be created or destroyed; only converted. Human are beings that run on electrical impulses, the very thing which runs the universe. So, it only makes sense that we are a piece of the universe that is merely waiting to rejoin the great beyond. The great unknown is only in what form do we reconnect and what do we take with us when we go back to our electrical soup. (And they say you can’t have both spirit and science.)
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I was told by someone that due to the uniqueness of my situation; losing both parents, that I would not be right in the head for three years. In psychology, they say that they you are as strong as your support group. I am not married, and my siblings live out of state. My brother and sister are both married, and my sister has her children and their families just a few miles from her. I’m not sure what any of that really means except that even the people that went through the exact same thing as I did not experience it in the exact same way. I knew this when my sister asked how I was doing after my father’s death, and her response to my answer was, “You need to get married.” Can’t really talk with them.
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I can tell you that it does get easier to cope with. (I don’t like the word “better.”) If you listen to yourself, you know when to go out and when to stay in. You have your trigger words, and you wonder if they will come up in mixed company, and you wonder if you will cope, or at least have time to remove yourself from the room.
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Sometimes I describe myself as someone without a spiritual side. These days, I have little use for faith. (Still don’t.) About one year ago, just after regaining my footing from my mother’s passing, my father soon followed. I had not spoken with my father for thirteen years at that time, but the government still held me responsible for four digit bill with which the mortuary was threatening us. At one point, I quietly asked my mother, “Mom, would it be so much to ask for us to break even on this one”? Two weeks later, the day I was going to write a check to mail to my brother my half of the bill, he received a check from my father’s “estate.” At that time, no one would give us any answers, and as much as we could tell, he had nothing but a rental to his name at the end. I was tempted to trace the check to its source so I could get some answers, but I was ragged, and I had broken even.