So reality television shows have this creepy format thing where they bring back a season’s cast for a six month reunion. Like being on a reality show was tantamount to going to college or something and the whole class needs to get back together to reminisce and see how everybody turned out.
Admittedly, my family is kinda not into things like reunions or even graduations, so the last graduation I went to was when I finished sixth grade. I somewhat regretted not going to my own college reunion this spring when Barack Obama turned out to be the keynote speaker. So maybe I just don’t get the reunion thing, but I’m still in touch with a lot of people I went to school with. On purpose. Because I like and enjoy them. Because I shared enjoyable and life-forming experiences with them.
College does not seem much like reality TV, but VH1 did recently do a show called Charm School where rock manager extraordinaire and TV personality Sharon Osbourne and seminal nightclub impresario and TV personality Riki Rachtman were the deans. I guess the idea was to teach some manners to chicks who previously tried to date Flavor Flav or Bret Michaels or somebody like them.
One of my most embarrassing Hollywood moments, when I first moved out to Los Angeles, Forrest Black and I went over to visit sexy bassist Megan Maddox, when she was in, I think, Tairrie B’s My Ruin and possibly Taime Downe’s The Newlydeads as well, to shoot her for Tattoo Savage. A couple of other people, who I knew from Los Angeles nights on the town, were also hanging out there, and we all had the misfortune of watching Sheryl Crow do a GNR cover. So we’re all cringing and I tell some anecdote about how Guns n’ Roses changed my life. I cringed a lot more later when I finally put it together that Riki from the club was Riki Rachtman from Headbangers Ball who got the gig via Axl Rose and had a fuck of a lot more claim than yours truly on GNR being life-changing.
To return to reality television programming, still in progress, the second season of the Bret Michaels Rock of Love extravaganza definitely helped turn me off of reality TV. Aside from the way they made it painfully apparent that Bret Michaels is a sucky prize, the dude chose some generic liar chick over beautiful Tattoo Savage covergirl Daisy de La Hoya. Apparently, Bret Michaels just couldn’t get over the fact that Charles Edward from Seraphim Shock is Daisy’s ex and they still spend time together. I’ve shot Charles and he certainly is, circa 2008, a lot hotter than Bret. The Poison frontman apparently felt so threatened by a good-looking gothic guy that the show couldn’t even mention Seraphim Shock. Whatever. Although Daisy seemed to actually have inexplicably warm feelings for Bret, she demonstrably can do better, because she already has.
The reunion show for Rock of Love 2, gamely moderated by Riki Rachtman, was pretty much a horror show. A chick named Heather, who I guess competed on the first Rock of Love and advised on the second one, punched poor Daisy de La Hoya and it was my opinion that VH1, not only allowed it to happen, but was hoping it would. I felt terrible for Daisy, but, in Heather’s defense, Bret Michaels actually let Heather get his name tattooed to her throat in the first season. And then did not pick her. I think it is very bad manners to give someone the go-ahead to get a tattoo of your name if you know you are going to spurn their affections on national television.
So, although I watched none of the seasons of Charm School, I noticed that a number of people have been chortling about how the recent Charm School reunion trumped the Rock of Love reunion for catfight fetish. To make a long story moderately less long, some two-face, mean, drunk, ditzy blonde from one of the VH1 programs, made a crack about another contestant’s child. Sharon Osbourne told her that was not cool. So the drunk ditz, apparently named Megan Hauserman, made some rude cracks about Sharon Osbourne’s family and Ozzy Osbourne in specific. At this point, Sharon Osbourne demonstrated just one of the many many reasons why she is qualified to school these girls. Without a hair out of place, and without appearing to sweat or shake, Sharon Osbourne threw this red drink all over the rude bleach blonde and, although it is hard to make out in the tape above, apparently also pulled out clumps of her hair and scratched her and twisted her arm badly enough that VH1 rushed rude ditzy girl to the hospital. Normally, I disapprove of violence in disagreements, but I do think a lot of people have no sense that some things are sacred. I think that, to someone like this Megan Hauserman, nothing is sacred, so she may truly have no concept that going after someone’s son or husband is crossing a line, put there by civilization, for good reason. Those who choose to be uncivilized in that way to someone as tough and elegant as Sharon Osbourne should consider themselves lucky when they only end up clowned, with ruined hair and makeup, and an arm in a sling.
I walked by the Rock of Love 3 bus on Hollywood Boulevard this Saturday night, walking home from Pinkberry. Living in Los Angeles is surreal.