Dearly
beloved, we are gathered here today to pronounce TLC the most batshit channel
on television. The Learning Channel, colloquially known as TLC—probably
officially known as TLC, too, since the producers have clearly abandoned that
whole ‘learning’ thing—is the leading network for wedding programming. Their
stellar line-up also features murders, cupcakes, hoarders, little people,
murderous cupcake-hoarding little people (they're real, and on TLC - Tuesdays at 9); but I have yet to completely give up
on my life, so I stick to the wedding shows.
On first glance, TLC covers an unexplainably random spectrum of topics. However, there is one sole theory that can rationalize TLC—it is run by a gaggle of spinster aunts. I imagine a herd of 57-year-old women. I imagine charity 5K baseball hats worn over grey frizz. I imagine cat sweaters with sassy captions. A group of feisty middle-aged females who were sick of their middle school vice principal jobs, sick of what was on TV, and darn sick of not doing anything about it. Until finally, they pooled together their vice principal money and bought a television network. Ladies and gentlemen, your TLC board of directors. This has to be why it’s called The Learning Channel. Not because we the viewers are learning, but Sharon and the gals are learning this fancy television talk as they go along.
It’s a learning
experience for us, okay? Are we a channel about weddings? Are we a channel
about psychics? Are we a channel about midgets? Wait, Janice, are we allowed to
say midgets? Am I gonna get in trouble for saying that? Eh, who cares! We’re the
Learning Channel, ladies. We’re learning! Carol, put on that show with that guy
with five wives. No, not that one. The other one with a goatee just like that
crazy guy’s on Food Network. Yes, Carol. Put it on, who cares. Alright! We got
this! Yes, ladies!
Yes,
ladies. Yes, indeed. You are learning, and I’m loving every single second of
it. TLC’s most pervasive parasite, Say Yes to the Dress, is already a smash hit—since
the title rhymes. All of America’s most loved shows have poetic titles: Bill
Nye the Science Guy, Rachael Ray’s Week in a Day, Dora the Explora, etc. However,
the thought process behind SYTTD abruptly ends there. It’s as if a TLC aunt thought
of the title, high-fived the other aunts, then was unexpectedly forced to come
up with the entire show’s premise right then and there.
-Say Yes to the Dress!
Love it! What’s it about?
-Well, Sharon, it’s… uh,
it’s about choosing dresses.
-Ack. I don’t know,
Carol. That’s it? A half-hour of choosing dresses?
-No! Uh, there’s more.
They’re, um, choosing… wedding dresses! They’re choosing wedding dresses.
-I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!
**faints from excitement**
The
most outstanding part of Say Yes to the Mess is that it is so simple that you
can mute it and still fully grasp everything that’s going on. Yet, they have a
narrator—for those who are just baffled by girls walking into a magical room
and walking out wearing something totally different. Wait! How did they…? Did they change personalities, too? What’s going
on?! My easily confused sisters, fear not, for TLC’s gallant narrator is here
to hold your hand and walk you through it. This glorious aspect of SYTTD means
that there is a real man out there, with a real man voice, whose real job title
is ‘Say Yes to the Dress Narrator.’ Really.
Mornin’, Bill. What we
got? Great. Short day today. Jesus, Bill, you think I don’t know cigarettes are
bad for my voice? Jeez, you sound like my bitch wife. Can we just record this
damn thing so I can afford to feed my kids? Can we start already? Great. Jesus,
Bill. Alright, here we go—
‘Becky loves the mermaid
silhouette, but Mom has something different in mind!’
Got it? Alright. Nice,
Bill, for once. Same time tomorrow? Great. I hate myself.
If
SYTTD is too simple to you—maybe you’re fighting a constant battle between your
craving for intellectual challenge and your craving for wedding trash—don’t
worry, the zany vice principals at TLC got you covered. For lovers of math and
reading and other confusing stuff, may I present to you – Four Weddings. In
this bridal competition show, four women attend and rate each other’s
weddings—all while desperately convincing themselves that their wedding is the
greatest, happiest, most unique celebration that will have every spin class
talking for generations and all the other weddings are just ants eating bologna
off paper plates.
Four
Wedding’s ingeniously crafted rating system attempts to quantify the quality of
a wedding by giving each of four categories a score out of 10—Dress, Venue,
Food, and Overall Experience. Not sure how Groomsmen Hotness didn’t make it in
that final four, but you could always commend high-caliber hotness in the
catch-all Overall Experience category. Wait, why are you looking at the
groomsmen? You literally just got
married yesterday. Pull yourself together, Lisa.
What
is this all for, you ask? What’s the precious prize? It’s all for a honeymoon. One
honeymoon to rule them all. Meaning that out of the four newlyweds, three will
be honeymoon-less. Now, isn’t that just poor budgeting? Here’s an idea for the
cat lady board of directors at TLC, whoever expertly crafted the Four Weddings
rating system, can they please help these brides manage their finances? You
spent $2,000 to get your husband’s baby picture engrained on cake sprinkles,
but you never thought to set that money aside for a honeymoon? You planned a
wedding, threw that wedding, got told on national television that your wedding
was objectively worse then someone else’s wedding, then you just… went home?
That’s it?
That,
ladies and gentlemen, is the stock image of failure. However, you’d never even
suspect how depressed the bride contestants (bride-testants?) are—just because
they look so painstakingly cheerful. All of the time. Always. No matter how disastrous
a wedding may be, those unrelenting bride guests (bride..ests… breasts? Okay
I’m done with this game) will slap McSmiles on their spray-tanned faces so
nobody suspects they’re having a bad time. If they have a bad time, then the
bride whose wedding is sucking will be sad. If the sucky bride is sad, then
she’ll avenge her suckiness but lowballing that other bride’s points. If that
bride loses, then her husband will divorce her. Well, maybe not. But it could
totally happen. I mean, wouldn’t you be pissed if your fiancée subjected your ~celebration
of love~ to strangers’ rigorous scrutiny, and have it all be for nothing?
Right? This show has heavy consequences, y’all.
Karen’s wedding was
really… nice. Yeah, really nice. It was in her home. I mean her grandmother’s
home. Okay, I really mean her grandmother’s basement… which is really unique! I
mean, I’ve never, and I mean never, been to a wedding in a basement before. Had
a very homey, family feel to it. And, uh, well, her grandmother died a couple
years ago, but the body is still there… I mean, it’s nice that her grandma
could make it to the wedding, dead or alive, right? Yeah, that probably,
hopefully, meant a lot to Karen. So, yeah, the whole reception space had a very
decomposing, rotten ambiance, but that actually contrasted well with the fresh
seafood we had for dinner. Really lovely. 9 out of 10 for overall experience.
TLC’s
marital mayhem has frequently brought my own wedding desires into question. I revel
in watching them, but do I want one for myself? Marriage, yes, so I can
automatically have someone to drag to social gatherings and order Chinese food with quickly after. But do I
really want to throw a hundred-thousand-dollar glitter extravaganza to prove
it? To TLC’s delight, I truly love weddings. However, to my mother’s denial, I
only love them at a distance. That is, unless you’re proposing right now, then yes.
I love you. And we’re winning that damn honeymoon.