I will admit it. I got hooked on
Survivor when it came out. My brother and I watched every episode of
Season 1 and
Season 2. It was addicting, in an "I wonder who's name is going to be scribbled on that faux-parchment this week?" kind of way. Not to mention the thrill when the host spoke those dreaded words, "The tribe has spoken," and then proceeded to snuff out the unlucky contestants' torch - along with their hopes and dreams. Perhaps the hook was due to a Season 1 competitor, a truck driver from Wisconsin (not my father). But nonetheless, watched we did. And then we didn't. I'm not sure why we didn't watch Season 3, but I have not watched an entire episode of Survivor since May 3, 2001 - the Season 2 finale. I have tuned in a time a two by accident, but I find myself switching off almost immediately. I think the reaction is due to my distaste for reality-TV in general. I mean seriously, there is simply not that much junior-high school drama in the real world. And if there is, I'm glad I don't experience it - and I certainly don't need to watch it.
I will make one exception to my anti-reality-TV crusade. And that exception is
Bravo's Top Chef. Danielle and I caught a re-run of it last year, and we have been hooked on it ever since. The format is simple: 16 contestants are pitted against each other in a culinary battle for the title of "Top Chef." The competitions involve difficult scenarios (e.g., cook a meal for 50 in 3 hours; create a high-end entree with 4 ingredients; cater a wedding; develop a meal with themes from your favorite movie), and every week one contestant is forced to pack up his/her knives and go home. It is highly entertaining, and it lacks the non-stop induced drama that most reality-TV shows are infamous for. But perhaps what I like most about the show is the passion these culinary artists have for their craft. These people love what they do, they have dedicated their lives to doing what they do, and it is incredible to listen and watch what they do. I learn a new cooking technique, a new exotic ingredient, a new appreciation for cooking everytime I watch it. That being said, tonight I am going to undertake a highly complex meal - pounding out some ground beef for hamburgers on the grill. OK, its not exactly Seared Ostrich Filet with Heirloom Tomato Risotto and Abalone Reduction (just to give you an idea of what these people can do with an ostrich). But just because I couldn't paint the Mona Lisa doesn't mean I can't admire it.
Here's another example of what I am talking about: We got a flier in the mail a few weeks ago from the
Virginia Symphony Orchestra, welcoming us to the neighborhood and offering two free tickets to one of their concerts. We chose to hear them at Norfolk's Chrysler Hall, a night of "All Beethoven." I actually very much enjoy going to the theatre. From an early age my mom instilled in me a respect for classical music. We periodically attended Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra concerts, and she often took me to "
Keyboard Conversations with Jeffrey Siegel" - a piano concert with commentary from the pianist. But since my childhood and early teens, I have had relatively little exposure to live classical concerts. But Danielle and I got all dressed up for our night at the symphony, and took in an extraordinary show- for free! And while the music was beautiful, perhaps what impressed me most was reading the liner notes, the program handed out before the show. I'll give you just a sample of the notes on Beethoven's Symphony No. 3 in E-flat Major:
"Two fortissimo chords announce immediately that we are to sit up and take notice; this is not background music. Two centuries later, their effect is still electrifying, and sets the tone for the entire work...Just prior to the recapitulation, when we expect the restatement of the main theme, pianissimo violin tremolos making the very air pregnant with anticipation. Perhaps the most famous "wrong note" in all Beethoven then occurs: first horn states the opening triadic figure. Beethoven, however, has fooled us: the horn entrance is intentionally premature...The more we hear this symphony, the more certain we are that Beethoven knew precisely what he was doing. Every note of this symphony is calculated for maximum effect."
I don't understand much of what was is written above, and I'm guessing you may not either. But wasn't it beautiful? I appreciate the fact that some people do understand all the nuances of what the author (Laurie Shulman of the VSO) is writing, and I admire even more the author's ability to paint such a wonderful picture. She has captured on paper the beauty and power of Beethoven's music. Her passion for music can be clearly seen by the excitement in her commentary and her desire for those in attendance to appreciate the intricacies of his symphony. And again, I may not know the difference between a symphony and concerto, but I enjoy listening to them every now and again.
So take the time to appreciate the talented people that surround you, to wonder at the passion they have for what they are gifted at, and to praise the One who blessed them with those abilities.
But please - don't watch Survivor. Life's too short to waste on bad TV.
So... I made scones (in the shape of hearts, aren't they cute!), which we served with strawberries and cream (which I whipped myself). I have to say I felt very refined as we sat there eating our English breakfast, watching the tennis finals. Apparently, those in attendance at the event eat more than 2 million berries and 1800 gallons of cream. Glad I didn't have to prepare all that! 
So... I made scones (in the shape of hearts, aren't they cute!), which we served with strawberries and cream (which I whipped myself). I have to say I felt very refined as we sat there eating our English breakfast, watching the tennis finals. Apparently, those in attendance at the event eat more than 2 million berries and 1800 gallons of cream. Glad I didn't have to prepare all that! 
