| nnolen |
Jul 20th, 2008 01:23 PM |
I was X-ed by Anthony Bourdain
As many of you are already aware, I entered a competition several months ago to take No Reservations host Anthony Bourdain on the trip of my choice. I was to create a video and submit it to the Travel Channel to be posted online and reviewed by Tony and his staff.
I spent virtually no time and wasted absolutely no technical talent on the video itself. Low tech in the extreme, the video was a single shot, 3 minute whirlwind of insanity. I wanted to take Tony to Naples, and had none of my pictures from my lengthy time there, so I drew my own (tongue-in-cheek) pictures of Naples and the surrounding area. Approximately halfway through my 3 minute debacle, Cassidy came home, the dog started barking, and I mentioned it in the video. Sadly, I think this was everyone’s favorite part.
So, with no expectations, I submitted the video. To my great surprise, people started watching it. And commenting on it. And then, not too much later and to my even greater surprise, the Travel Channel contacted me and informed me that I was in the top 20 of videos submitted and would be contacted for a phone interview by Zero Point Zero staff. I must admit, considering the vast array of slickly produced videos on the website, I was actually stunned that they picked me for anything.
Of course, as naturally happens, even though I thought I had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever being picked, I started to want it. I desired it. I spent sleepless nights creating the perfect list of things that I would do with Tony. I would take him up Mount Vesuvius. We would find local wine and drink it and spend the remainder of the episode making snarky comments about the surroundings, the locals, and anything else that came to mind. It would be legendary, this trip. I might have obsessed just a little.
Then, on the website, the naysayers started chiming in. How could my video be in the top 20, they said. They thought it had no redeeming aspects. Clearly, they were not noticing my charm, my wit, my commanding knowledge of Italian and all things Naples. Honestly, would Tony pick someone who didn’t have a vast knowledge of the country they were going to visit? He needed a fixer, a source, an Italian prodigy.
To my dismay, I found that my dream of showing Tony the wonder of Naples would never be a reality. I was not in the top 3. I would not meet Tony in New York. I begrudgingly had to admit that the winning concept of Saudi Arabia was far more intriguing and television worthy. Tony had never been there, unlike Italy. He had someone who lived there to show him the ropes. She seemed to have some idea of how a videocamera worked. I sucked up my disappointment and contented myself with an email from the Travel Channel in which I was told I would be featured in a FAN-atic clips special.
Cut to today, a lazy Sunday afternoon. With nothing to do and nowhere to be, I had some time to watch a little television. Of course, with a Bourdain marathon on, my viewing choice was clear. Suddenly, in the middle of the Laos episode at about 3:30 in the afternoon, I was on national television. In a commercial. A 30 second clip of my video with the pictures and the dog and, at the end, a giant red X through my face.
I had been gonged by Bourdain. Bourdain X-ed me.
Should this have surprised me? I guess not. But it did. I expected some sort of introduction of the top 20 finalists, and then a snarky comment or two from the Tone-ster. But an X through my face? How rude.
Things only got worse when I saw the OTHER commercials they were airing. A man who stood in the snow with a stick, sang a little song about drinkinandsmokinandeatin and then whacked a snowman. A man who creepily unwrapped a napkin while talking about showing Tony the reason he should be picked. A man wearing only a crayfish apron. And me.
And suddenly, the reality of the situation hit me. On American Idol, approximately 50% of the people they pick are legitimately talented. And the other 50% are a joke, a calamity, a disaster waiting to happen. And the light dawned on marble head, and I knew that Anthony Bourdain saw me as a joke.
I can’t help but feel a little like a jilted “X”-ed girlfriend, only instead of love notes and trinkets I’m left with a signed copy of No Reservations and the memory of national humiliation. Regardless, tomorrow night I will watch the FAN-atic special. I can’t avoid it; Bourdain is like a drug. And the concept for the Saudi Arabia show was a good one. And while the experience was educational, I fear that my forays into potential television host-dom are over. So, if you happen to see me on television, take pity on me, and pretend like you didn’t see me get X-ed.
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