So they are filming a reality show around the corner from my house. I found this out by nearly running my bike into the giant satellite truck they have precariously jammed into the brush on the corner of my street and the road it intersects. At first I thought it might be a news crew… Then I saw the row of cars, also jammed into the brush in weak attempts to park “out of the way”… All with Connecticut plates. Something very different was happening in my little neighborhood.
I made a few calls and sent a few texts…
“I have been sworn to secrecy”
Seriously… We are in Cotuit. There are no secrets in Cotuit (part of the reason why I miss living in Marstons Mills).
As it turns out, they are filming a reality show. Yup. Right here on Cape Cod. Could it be a finale episode of The Bachelor? Survivor? … Honestly, those are the only 2 reality shows I know the names of. Give me a good sit-com with cleaver jokes and physical comedy and I am hooked. Parade people around in ridiculously contrived scenarios and staged ambush situations and I’d rather mow my lawn (and you have seen my lawn, right?).
So… There it is at the end of my street… a giant satellite truck with a dish big enough to beam pictures of mice on the moon to every television set, laptop and smart phone in America.
I dug a little deeper, because, like every good neighbor in Cotuit, I needed to know what was going on over the fence. Someone sent me a like www.MyLifetime.com so I peeked:
“EMMY NOMINATED” flashed across my phone screen… Images of trash and people crying. “AND FOR THE FIRST TIME…” Rats. Stacks of junk. “WE ENTER A HOUSE…” Sickly looking animals. Piles of stuff. A woman buried in bags and stacks of who-knows-what to the point where it appears she cannot stand up. “ON LIVE TV…” They show someone (the host?) knocking on a dingy door… “HOARDERS: FAMILY SECRETS”.
I refreshed the page to make sure I was seeing what I thought I saw. It all scrolled and flashed like a bad sci-fi trailer at a drive in. Filthy rooms. Rotting food. People in haz-mat suits…What is wrong with these people???
–No, not the frightened, mortified and helpless people who are obviously in need of a great deal of professional help on more levels that I can imagine. I am wondering about the person (or people) who decided that filming a human being at the lowest, most vulnerable and depressed point in their life was entertainment? Encouraging America to watch, dumb-struck, and peer into someone’s life that has been turned to complete chaos.
Is this supposed to make me feel better about myself? I am not going to jump up and wash the dirty coffee mugs that are piling up in my sink. Instead I am sitting here thinking about carnival side shows and public shaming. I am thinking about confused and scared people who did not deliberately put themselves into compromising situations so they could be splayed out for the world to see and judge them. I am thinking about the dirty little secrets we all live with behind closed doors. Some are harmless and I am sure some can be self-destructive while others are absolutely dangerous.
If I don’t vacuum this week, I will have clumps of dog hair the size of chipmunks rolling around on the floor. I know this, because I am looking at one right now. I spend an extra 20 minutes wondering around the newly-re-arranged grocery store looking for the hiding spot for crunchy peanut butter….One of my neighbors turns with her dog and rushes back to her house if I try to say hello to her. Another neighbor watches out their window chuckling whenever my dog drags me through their sprinkler (I think they turn the water on deliberately when they see us coming down the street). Maybe one of my neighbors sits naked in their living room writing novels and poetry… (I may have made that one up… and yes I am fully dressed as I write this… thanks). Actually, aren’t we all starring in our own reality shows?
The situation unfolding down the street is something totally different. When did public shaming become a way to help someone? Maybe I am in the minority… Maury has made a decades long career of airing dirty laundry (to the point of farce) and I suppose the Dating Game was the game-show predecessor of the Bachelor… And in a way, the Brady Bunch might have built the groundwork for Big Brother.
With most of these reality shows, however, people volunteered or auditioned for their 15 minutes of fame. I am sure there is a screening process for most reality shows… including the one filming at the end of my street.
I just feel that this particular situation –as bad is it probably is, could have been handled differently. If you think someone is in need, and the level of help or support they deserve is above what you can physically or emotionally provide, call someone to help. Call your mother or a neighbor. Call a doctor. Call the police.
Of course anyone can, make a youtube channel, or a facebook page about themselves –and thousands have… BUT, before you volunteer up someone you know (like them or not) for public scrutiny and bare exhibition, put yourself in their position. We are all only 1 accident away from chaos.
I am going to walk my dog now. Maybe I will let my dog lift a leg on the satellite dish…
About Cat Wilson
