Just how bored are Americans this summer? They’re so freakin’ bored that they’ll spend their evenings watching a completely bogus TV show called Survivor. If that isn’t a barometer of what is wrong with this country, what is?
You’d think on a summer evening, people would be in the back yard grilling catfish on the barbie. Nope. You’d think they’d be down at the ball park. Nope. Bicycling, tennis, croquet for cryin’ out loud? Nope. Gotta watch Survivor.
For those of you who missed it—and polls indicate that is only 2 percent of the entire population—tubby, middle-aged Richard Hatch, who convinced people to plot against each other, was the sole survivor of Survivor. According to unscientific polls, he was the most disliked of the 16 original “survivors” on the deserted island—replete with TV crews, medics and catering trucks, of course.
Both the Deseret News and The Salt Lake Tribune played the Survivor finale on their front pages. The Trib even put it across the top of the front page, signaling it was the most important news of the day. Give us a break. Of course, that’s not to mention Trib columnists Rolly’s & Wells’ reprise of the whole hideous Survivor scheme, placing local celebrities on Fremont Island in the Great Salt Lake. Their Richard Hatch turned out to be Rocky Anderson. Or was it Hope Woodside? Who cares?
On a brighter note, we here at Smartbomb have just received our complementary issue of Salt Lake magazine, that slick, glossy thing for Utah’s rich and famous. It’s the first issue from the magazine’s new editor, Andrea Malouf. By the way, she used to write for City Weekly. Andrea has a nice editorial on page 24, which includes a cute picture.
On page 21, there is an ad for cleavage. If you don’t have any, you can get some from the plastic surgeon, it says. The ad defines cleavage this way: “The area between a woman’s breasts, esp. when revealed by a low-cut neckline.” Hey, City Weekly is not the only local publication with racy ads!
As usual, the magazine has a three-page party section with glossy photos of beautiful rich people at all the right parties. Stein Eriksen, Kimberly Perkins, Jim and Glenda Bradley and Nancy Rogers are there, to name just a few. But where are the City Weekly staffers? Apparently, we don’t attend the right parties. Where was Salt Lake magazine when we had our bash at the Lazy Moon, anyway? Or don’t food fights and people puking on their shoes fit in with Salt Lake’s glossy, upscale magazine? At least we know how to have fun.