It’s true. I watch The Bachelor and The Bachelorette. I realize that there is no excuse for this behavior. I also understand what it is doing to me cognitively.  

I took the tests and became a Mensa member in my 30’s but after two seasons of watching the Bachelor and Bachelorette I had to turn my membership card back in. After an additional two seasons I was unable to form thoughts more complex than “when will the hot tub scene be on?” After only two more seasons I was unable to wipe the drool off my chin or change my own diaper. By the time that Emily gives out the final rose at the end of this season I may actually be voting Republican.  

I am transfixed by the sheer stupidity of these shows. I love the ridiculously contrived contestants; “Hi, I’m Derrick, I’m a nuclear physicist during the week but my real love is quiet walks on the beach and rescuing baby seals. Now, for no apparent reason, I’m going to remove my shirt so you can ogle my chiseled abs.”  

I love the over-the-top dates. I know that when my wife and I were dating I routinely drove her in my Maserati to the airport so that we could hop on my private jet and take a quick flight over to Greenland to have a picnic on a glacier (Ok, that’s not entirely true. When I was I was dating my wife, and I really wanted to splurge on a date, I let her have her own order of fries at McDonalds.)  

I love the carefully scripted drama, the cat fights, the bunny-boiling psycho chicks, and the one phrase that is uttered at least 100 times every season; “I don’t think that guy is here for the right reasons.” Dude, who the fuck cares? Every man in America that watches this show is here for one, and one reason only... 

...25 beautiful twenty-something women in dental floss bikinis (and you can watch it with your wife’s permission!!!) 

I’ve heard people say that they should have a reality dating show about people my age but I’m not sure that would make for very good television. All of the dates would be at Piccadilly Cafeteria and would be over by 7:00 p.m. The deep discussions between potential romantic matches would revolve around pictures of the grandchildren and comparing medications. And no one wants to see 40 extra pounds of wrinkled pasty cottage-cheese-flesh, oiled and squeezed into a one piece bathing suit (and I’m talking about the male contestants here.) 

I do try and redeem myself. Last night I did watch two episodes of the PBS documentary “Monarchy: The Royal Family at Work.” It was very informative. I’m excited about tonight’s installment. 

The teaser shows the queen in a hot tub.