50's Redux

Last night I watched a new reality show on ABC called How To Get The Guy in which four attractive enough women in San Francisco were taken to Monster Field by their two "love coaches" and loudly bellowed their intentions to find Mr. Right no matter what it took, thereby setting gender equality back about 60 years.

Our girls were taught to emit the right kind of availability signals -- make eye contact for 4 seconds (oooh) while smiling. (I know, that's a hard thing to master, like rubbing your head and patting your belly at the same time. Or is it the other way around?) The guys ranged from utterly bland to downright fullbore creepy, which brings up the question of why women would demean themselves trying to please them in the first place. Do we really still yearn for frilly aprons with matching oven mitts and a dining room set with only one arm chair?

Let me say right here that I have absolutely nothing against love, or men, (really!) but contriving to land one like a big fat flounder by employing strategies that strongly resemble The Rules makes me want to yakk up a hairball.