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That Dog Don’t Hunt – And He’s Not the Only One

I have lost my faith in humanity.  Maybe not all of it, but pretty much everyone connected to the entertainment portion.

I didn’t lose it overnight. It’s been slowly eroded over the years.  It started when I was a teenager.  My sister, Crash (before she had done any crashing), and I were attending a show by a world-famous magician.  Before the show, as we chatted in our seats, we were approached by one of the people who apparently worked backstage.  She handed a purse to my sister, and told her to raise her hand when the magician asked for a purse from a volunteer from the audience.  Not knowing what to say, my sister nodded.

Now, if this had happened to me recently, I think you know what I would have done.  When that magician asked for a volunteer, I would have sat on my sister’s face and raised my own hand, offering my lovely untricked-out purse to the magician.

Instead, my unassertive teenage self sat miserably in the audience through the entire show completely disenchanted as my sister enthusiastically gave up the purse that wasn’t hers to begin with for some stupid trick I don’t even remember that amazed everyone in the audience except for the two of us.

It wasn’t as though I didn’t know beforehand that there was actually no magic involved.  I just didn’t want the whole nuts and bolts of the trick to be pushed into my face right before the show.

So, anyway, fast forward to today.  The little faith hadn’t been worn down over the years by tales of celebrity shenanigans and political hooligans (yes, I consider politicians to be part of the entertainment group) tumbled in a giant landslide to the bottom of the canyon due to some information I received at lunch.

One of my friends, whose house is on the market, mentioned that his realtor had contacted him to see if he would be interested in allowing his house to be shown on a television show. A television show about hunting for houses.  The one where they show three houses to a couple and you are supposed to guess which one they picked.  During their hunt.  For houses.  I LOVE that show.

Here’s the kicker.  Apparently, the couple for this particular episode has already chosen the house!  That is so WRONG!  It’s like a canned hunt!  You can’t “shoot” a television show in which you are purporting that a life-changing decision is hanging in the balance when the life-changing decision was made before you even started shooting!

My friend stated that I looked like he had just told me there is no Santa Claus.

What?!!!!!!  Are you friggin’ kidding me?  I suppose the Elf on the Shelf is just a story, too…

O.K.  I might have slightly overreacted.  You would think I would have been jaded long before now by all of the junk that’s been on T.V.  the past thirty years.  I’m some kind of twisted Anne Frank, though, who keeps insisting that people are really good at heart.  I keep forgetting that most decisions these days are made by A. Financial Corporations (who, despite recent court decisions really aren’t people) who B.  have no hearts.

So, now that my friend has ruined the only “reality” show I ever watch, I should have plenty of time for blogging.  There’s an up side to everything.

See, I just can’t stop channelling poor sweet Anne.

And now, if you will excuse me, I must go find my stuffed Wonderbutt so I can pose him by the remote control I deliberately shattered he destroyed for the sake of art and comedy for my next post.

This Dog Don't Hunt, Either.

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