Of Offseason Trades & Bad TV

We’re getting down to the wire here. My daughter keeps asking when it will be Christmas Day, and she assures me that when that day comes it will snow. She’s also reasonably convinced that Santa is bringing her “lots of presents.” She’s probably wrong about the weather – we’ve had a string of lovely, clear days and mild nights – but dead on about the presents. Thank my wife for that. When it comes to gift giving and gift wrapping, Terry is second to no one. She does most of her shopping on the Internet, in advance, and therefore avoids the malls and all the last minute hassles that put people in a foul mood.

If Shawn Green agrees to waive the no-trade clause in his contract, he might be on his way to Arizona, paving the way for Randy Johnson to become a Yankee. After what happened to the Yanks this season – blowing a three games to none lead over Boston in one of the worst collapses in MLB history – Johnson is exactly what the doctored ordered, a dominant starter. Toss Johnson into a rotation that already features Mike Mussina and Carl Pavano, and the Yanks look reloaded for 2005. All they need now is for A-Rod to learn how to hit in the clutch.

On another sporting front, I tried to watch the Wizards-Lakers game a few nights ago and found it impossible. Kobe going one-on-five time and again isn’t my idea of basketball. Where’s the passing, the screens and cuts, the teamwork? Is Kobe as egotistical as he appears? He will probably lead the NBA in scoring but it is unlikely the Lakers will advance very far in the play offs. Phil Jackson must be laughing.

Here’s an admission of guilt: I watched the Swan last night, the beauty pageant edition, or should I say that the Swan was on while I was burning CD’s for my niece on the computer. The spectacle of the show left me speechless, but it sucked me in nonetheless. I had to check myself, ask if I was interested or repelled as I watched the surgically enhanced women come out for their turn under the bright lights. Faces reshaped, fat sucked or carved away, teeth whitened or replaced, noses molded, breasts beefed up with silicon – was it me or did all the swans essentially look like wannabe porn star? As if the surgeon had a single idea of female beauty in mind.

We are attracted to bad TV in the same way we are attracted to a three car pile-up on the freeway. Whether we want it to or not, the spectacle draws our attention, appeals to our insatiable curiosity rather than our intelligence. The Swan spectacle no doubt looks different from a participant’s vantage point, an ugly and dissatisfied person suddenly rendered attractive and in the spotlight, the glamour, the applause of a friendly studio audience. For most this is perhaps as brightly as their star will ever shine. Once the “competition” is over, it’s back to the humdrum world, and quite possibly the same condition they were in before.