For the first time in my life, last week I reduced myself to look at a show that I had vehemently criticized without even watching. I have always frowned on such practices in the past, although I have always evinced the uncanny ability to evaluate what is presented on television without watching it. Especially when it is self-described as reality television. I was at a friend’s house and was mandated to watch it with them because his wife wanted to see it. She asked us both not to be overly critical. I have always been critical of reality television, because it’s reflective of the Sambo buffoonery that television has typically used to show black folk. Plus, it was strange for me to try and understand why any woman or man would watch a show that doesn’t serve any intellectual purpose. It is obviously not the type of content that will help you assist your kids with their homework or can teach you any valuable life lesson. But I gave in and watched.
They say water-boarding is torture, however I will gladly tolerate a day of water-boarding over the 5 minutes of what I saw on “Basketball Housewives.” Oddly enough, none of the women presented themselves as the type of woman I grew up around and carried themselves with as much tact as a woman on the stroll late at night in any major city. Moreover, the general disposition displayed by all the women was that they did not need a man but yet they would not have fame or riches if they had not hooked the big mouth trophy bass many call a professional athlete.
Truth be told, I can’t name one of them or pick one from the other in a lineup. But there are a few high yellow women that look like they have missed the sun even though they live in Florida. Then there is this little fidgety babe that rocks an S-curl. She must be from Memphis cause folks at the crib still rock them too. But I don’t know who she has slept with because they never said her dude’s name like they did for the one described as an ex-fiancee — which last I heard was not a wife. Another feature that struck me was how often they referred to each other at b—- and displayed behaviors that lets you know that before they were with or unwith (is that a word) the men they claim, it is likely that they were groupies.
I say this because as they sit down, defining themselves with the material contamination of designer clothes, boutiques and restaurants, they give off the appearance that they do not like each other sincerely but play as if they do. They even have a severe disdain for other groupies as if they are different gang sets. Maybe it is just me, but logic precludes me from understanding why the show is called basketball wives. I would imagine that televised skankery would be more important given that only one of them is actually married. They don’t even carry themselves like women who are married or that deserved to be respected as women. I have never seen behavior as such from the women in my family. Never would they call each other b—- or reduce themselves to throwing objects at each other.
It is sad that such a show is popular, even more so than reading a newspaper. But what can one expect when a person is with another because of what they own, their profession and wealth? You can see their unhappiness through how they treat others. Like I said, maybe a better show title would be Televised Skankery, or What Happens to Women When They Marry and Date Men With a Sixth Grade Math and Reading Level. –torrance stephens, ph.d.
For more with Dr. Stephens, visit twitter.com/rawdawgbuffalo and rawdawgb.blogspot.com.
