If you are not a viewer of American Idol, let me introduce to you Tatiana. Some of us are hoping Tatiana gets sent home soon…
…and some of us aren’t. Here is my son’s take on it. Also, you get a look at his OCD flavor of the month. Not long ago, he swiped his forehead a thousand times a day, then he moved on to scratching his arms and legs incessantly, then to pulling up his pants over, and over, and over. See if you can guess what he does obsessively now.
In case you haven’t watched it, the show is based on pairing gigantic steroid-filled men and women against average folks in tests of speed, power and agility. It is hosted by Hulk Hogan…
American Gladiator challenges are named things like, “Gauntlet”, “Assault”, “Hit and Run”, and “The Eliminator”. Sometimes the competitors prevail, but most of the time…well, let’s just say they’re lucky to be wearing helmets.
Just imagine competing against people with names like Titan, Stealth, Militia, Fury and Mayhem. Here are a couple of their bios…
This is a lovely Swede named Hellga. She’s a delicate lady coming in a 6’1”, and weighing 205 lbs. In her spare time she likes to make meatballs from scratch and split wood with her bare hands.
The competitors often have snappy comebacks too.
Despite the tough talk, the producers try and throw the contestants off by dressing the men like women. 
I sound like a sick cat when I sing. Actually, more like a sick cat, in heat, that was recently attacked by a pack of wild dogs. It’s so bad that I lip sync in church. Even hundreds of people can’t drown me out.
My husband has a very nice singing voice…one he inherited from his Mom. (Did you hear that? It sounds like a pinball machine. Ching-ca-ching-ca-ching-ching. That’s me, racking up mother-in-law points.) My husband sings because HE CAN. Unlike me, he doesn’t send small children screaming, ‘Make it stop! Make it stop!’
Last year, our son had ear tubes put in. For a week after the surgery we put drops in his ears twice a day, and he would have to lie on each side for five minutes afterward. After 10 minutes of staying still, which is excruciating for a five year old, we would tell him, “Okay, you can get up. You’re free.”
That quickly turned into my husband singing a loose rendition of the Rolling Stones’ song, I’m Free. ‘You’re free to do what you want, any old time.’ As much as I hate to sing, I will do it for my kids…if I have to. Although, I would refer to it as a lyrical whisper.
For some reason, my son doesn’t mind my bad voice. Though, maybe, just maybe, his 25% hearing loss has something to do with it.
Last weekend, my husband and I were out of town when our son came down with a fever. My niece was babysitting and I told her to give him Tylenol. Apparently when she got the Tylenol out of the container, she referred to them as “bad boys”. As in, ‘Let’s see if these bad boys will make you feel better’.
So this past week, we gave our son Tylenol and he would call them “bad boys”. And now, my husband belts out the theme from COPS every time he medicates him. My son wants me to sing, but in my quiet voice I’m doubting the criminals would be all that intimidated.
There has been an abundance of reporting on the Hollywood writer’s strike lately. Because of the strike, last night’s Golden Globes, which is usually a spectacular, star-studded affair, was hosted from a podium. The lavish dinner and drinks were never made, the designer gowns and jewels stayed stashed in their closets, and America was left with an awards ceremony resembling a college lecture. Though, it’s likely that an economics dissertation would’ve been more interesting.
But for me, last night was a wonderful evening of television. Because, my name is Momo and I’m a reality TV-oholic.
One of my favorite reality shows is The Amazing Race, which airs on Sunday nights. This is why I had no idea that The Golden Globes were being presented homeroom style.
The Amazing Race is a race around the world. It puts pairs of people in situations where they’re forced to complete tasks indigenous to the locale. While in Africa, they had to milk camels, and in Croatia, they had to row boats through the Adriatic Sea. You get the idea. The competitors are usually exhausted from flying from continent to continent, and there’s almost always a language barrier. The grand prize is $1 million, and these people WANT THAT MONEY. This race is like watching the human being’s equivalent of a train wreck.
Last night’s show saw the departure of Jen and Nathan, a couple who ran the race to see if their relationship could withstand the pressure. Considering that they admit not being able to stand each other when they first met, and that they’ve broken up numerous times in the last couple of years, this was a lofty goal. Jen was known for her kind words to Nathan like, “I hate you with a passion” and “I can’t stand you right now”. 
They were eliminated when they were the last team to arrive and check in with the host, Phil Koeghan.
The show is now down to the last three pairs of contestants, who will compete in the final leg on the season finale. Let’s meet the finalists…
This is Ron and Christina, a father/daughter team who are trying to bond. It seems Ron wasn’t around much while Christina was growing up, and when he was finally ready to play Dad, Christina was busy getting her degrees from Duke AND Princeton.
This is TK and Rachel. They are dread-heads, and are all about peace and harmony. TK never raises his voice, despite Rachel’s dumb mistakes. Of all the stops on the race route, I believe Amsterdam was their favorite.
This is Nicolas and Donald. A Grandson/Grandfather pair. Don is the oldest competitor ever to make it to the final three. And, despite being 45 years older than his grandson, he has taken on some of the more strenuous tasks, such as riding in an underwater Jeep, and lifting heavy rocks. All while his grandson stands nearby with words of encouragement like, “Pick up the pace there Don”.
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