I don’t like Dancing With The Stars. I do, however, like my lovely wife. So sometimes, just to spend time with her, I will sit through an episode of DWTS. And I’ve just got to say: I don’t get it.
Dancing With The Stars, in its very title, promises two things: dancing and stars. I saw very little of either. Buzz Aldrin is many things: an astronaut, a national hero, a living legend. But here are two things that he is not: a dancer or a star. Really, raise your hand if you want to see this octogenarian strutting around on stage.
Then there’s Kate What’s-Her-Name of Jon and Kate Plus Eight fame. Her big claim to fame is that she had a lot of kids, prostituted them on TV for money, and was such a emasculating shrew that her husband left her. Did I leave anything out? How’s that make her a star? And to make matters worse, she’s a horrible dancer. Really, really bad.
Which brings me to me next problem with the show. The voting seems to have little to nothing to do with the dancing. If it did, Kate would be long gone by now. I’m sure that the people who voted for her had their reasons, but I’m equally sure that those reasons were not related to her dancing prowess.
There are a few bright spots to watching the show. You get to see Erin Andrews twirling around in skimpy outfits without that annoying peep hole distorting the view. Pamela Anderson is nice to look at, and there’s always the chance that she’ll say something incredibly stupid, which is mildly entertaining. There’s also a short segment during which the always funny Adam Carolla mocks the show á la The Soup.
But for every bright spot there are ten minutes of dull talk, bad dance, and recaps of what you just saw. My advice to ABC? Replace the talking about dancing and have Tom Bergeron introduce some funny home videos of dogs saying “I love you” or fat guys falling down at weddings. And more Erin Andrews, please.
