Saturday, December 3, 2011


I have made reference to my love of Reality T.V.

It might be a part of my life that is here to stay.

Like dark chocolate. And tea. And heels. And Michael Buble.

The past few times when I have needed a minute or forty of downtime, I have ended up watching Millionaire Matchmaker.

Initially this was because I went "Millionaire Matchmaker? Yes please!" When it comes right down to it, I really want one of these:

This for the during the week:

This for the weekend:

And her, or possibly half a dozen of her, because I do not think you can over-estimate how much I loath cleaning:

Attaining all of that would just be way easier with my very own millionaire, right? My sugar daddy. My Mr. Moneybags.

So. OBVIOUSLY, Millionaire Matchmaker spoke to some small part of my soul. Or the majority of it.

I am just kidding. I have a lot more depth than that. I would be quite satisfied with these:

And him:

Even if we just lived in this:

It's not really much of a sacrifice, because....if you have Louboutin shoes and Ryan Reynolds........I dont think you need anything else.


Let's get serious, though.

As usually happens, after the first episode or two of any new show, I started observe a few things and then mull over them for the next week. Or two.

Don't judge. Mulling is part of my melancholic nature.

One of the most interesting things to me is that at some point, it seems that there is a realization that comes up, which whacks people in the face. The men (and sometimes women) who come to this matchmaker have "everything." They have multiple houses, cars, a plane or two, and the ability to do whatever they want.

They talk about being able to snag a different girl every night, and partying it up at the best places in the world, with the glitziest celebs. Yet, they go to a loud Jewish woman who yells at them and makes them sign a contract before joining her Millionaires Club which insists on "no sex before monogamy (monogamy = at least three months).


Well, after re-capping their fabulous lives, after describing in glowing detail how amazing their lifestyle is, a cloud passes over their faces. They have "everything," but no one to share it with. They might party it up every night, never with the same date, but at the end of a tough day they have no one to talk to. Most of them admit that their life is just kinda empty.

These men, who until this point in their lives have been just great with being lone wanderers, can't run away from the natural human inclination to truly share yourself with someone. They end up realizing that it would be just awesome to have someone who really knows them, who they can trust, who actually truly cares. It might also be great to have a few little someones to play with their vast vintage toy collection, or in their pool, or on their basketball court.

As the Beatles, those great philosophers of the Modern Age have said...."All You Need is Love."

And that is precisely what these searching millionaires lack. The snag is that no amount of money can buy it - something which, in a darkly hilarious way, they seem to struggle with.

The one thing they want most, after years of building up fortunes so that they can buy whatever they want, can't, after all, be bought.

God sighs darkly at the irony.


A team of therapists and life coaches is usually brought in, and these men are taught about how to truly connect with a woman and enter into something with her that lasts longer than a night, or - let's face it - a few hours.

At 40 or 45 or 50, or whatever age they are, though, their habits are so ingrained, their way relating to the world such a firm part of their character, that they seem to quite literally need to tear themselves down in order to build themselves anew.

It is really, really hard. Most of them fail.


This is all very scary.

As a society, we are so far removed from that which would make us truly happy: connection, self-giving, family, vulnerability, openness - that when we realize that we want all of that, it is SOMETIMES TOO LATE.

Our habits are our character: how damn hard is that to change, especially after 40 or 50 years?


I guess the good thing happens to be that Grace - that completely free and utterly unmerited outpouring - can make anything possible.

Good thing, right?


  1. Nice justification of spending hours of your life watching Big Love.

  2. Grace...grace...grace...wasn't I supposed to write a paper on that two years ago in Rome? :-P

    On another note, girlfriend, if you're going to drool over his shoes, at least get the designer's name

  3. P.S. Very insightful blog post. Etc., etc., etc. ;-)

  4. Why do you have to correct me ALL THE TIME??

  5. Mary's version of Green Acres?

  6. OMIGOSH PLEASE write a post about Big Love/Polygamy/Sister Wives. Why do I find that entire sub-culture to freakishly fascinating?

  7. You do TOO, Rose?

    Oh gosh. Sister Wives has me captivated....