Okay, I admit it. I like reality TV. Or maybe I should say unscripted TV. These days the parsing of the term "reality" has become as much a discussion as the genre itself. And don't kill me for calling it a genre. It is. It's here to stay. As long as producers can come up with ideas that make money and networks give them air time, reality/non-fiction/unscripted television is going to continue to proliferate the tube.

It's not with any great pride that I admit I'm hooked on reality shows -- some reality shows. My favorites include the high quality, classy shows, like The Amazing Race and Top Chef and Project Runway, as well as trashy ones, i.e. The Real Housewives of Orange County (and New York), Hell's Kitchen and Bridezillas. I like some of the competition-oriented shows, but that doesn't stop me from gazing in astonishment at the train wreck docu-series like Hey Paula and Being Bobby Brown. In fact, when I hear Kathy Griffin riffing on those shows -- her imitation of Whitney screaming "Bobby!" is classic -- I want to cry out, "Yes, yes, I watch that one, too."
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