He's handsome. He's charming. He's got a heart of gold and a body of steel. He has a 1000-watt smile that can light up a room. And, most importantly, he's available.
But enough about me.
On January 6th, America was introduced to Evan Marriott, better known by his alias, Joe Millionaire. The Fox network's fantasy-reality hybrid show struck ratings gold, as 25 million Americans tuned in to see what all the hype was about. I think I can speak on behalf of the 24,999,999 other viewers when I say we were not let down.
I mean, here I was, thinking that reality television had peaked with the E! network's The Anna Nicole Show. Washed up celebrities are always entertaining, and Anna is no exception. She's a far cry from the Anna Nicole of the 1990's -- I think she is 75 percent cottage cheese at this point -- but watching her struggle with simplistic tasks is usually good for a laugh.
Entertaining as Anna can be, the Fox network was not to be outdone. Network executives got together and came up with a show concept even better than The Anna Nicole Show. Amazingly enough, it wasn't titled "When Anna Nicole Attacks!"
Fox took a construction worker, Virginia Beach native Evan Marriott, and shipped him off to France. There, he learned the ways of the affluent and cultured. Enter 20 single women, who all have been told that Evan just inherited $50 million and now wants to find that special someone to share his life and newfound wealth. Evan hosts these 20 women at an enormous chateau, eliminating a few of them every episode. When all is said and done, he'll choose one lucky woman to pursue a romantic relationship with him. Then, when she declares her love for him, he'll drop the bomb on her: "Guess what, baby? I'm poor!"
Rest assured that millions of Americans will gather around the television for that moment, just to see the look on the "lucky" woman's face. I'll be one of them. All along, I've been rooting for women who seem like gold-diggers. Unfortunately for us viewers, Evan's done a decent job of weeding them out. Now only three remain, and the next two episodes have limitless potential.
Now I'm not saying that all women care about is money, but you have to admit that it's at least in the back of their minds. You know the "winner" is going to be royally pissed when he whisks her away to his apartment in Virginia Beach, which probably is littered with car magazines and dirty Hooters t-shirts. Suddenly Joe Millionaire will become Joe Dirt.
And not to get down on poor Evan, but let's face it: The guy is not the brightest crayon in the box. Describing his official title as "dirt-mover," I believe, he likened himself to Michelangelo. Now that's a stretch from the get-go, but the way he pronounced it sealed his fate: "Mickle-an-jello." I guess he had the painter confused with his drink of choice, Michelob Light. Actually, I take that back. The guy is pretty chiseled, so probably he's been drinking Michelob Ultra -- you know, the beer you drink while you work out.
Evan's intelligence notwithstanding, I was trying to think of an equivalent show -- one that would expose men's shallowness as well. If women only care about money, then men only care about looks. No, this principle doesn't always hold, but there is some underlying truth there.
If Fox wants to turn the tables and expose 20 men, they should create a show where the winner gets to spend a month on a deserted island with Pamela Anderson. The catch is that the winner doesn't get to go to the island with Pamela Anderson the supermodel. He gets to go with Pamela Anderson the 56-year-old librarian from Minnesota. And let me tell you, the librarians in Minnesota aren't the most attractive. If you want hot librarians, you go to South Carolina. That's the state with the money librarians.
Until Fox decides to buy the rights to that show from me, I guess Joe Millionaire will have to do. He may not be the richest or the smartest, but I'll miss Evan after the series finale. But even then, I'm sure we'll see him somewhere down the road. After all, Fox holds the rights to Celebrity Boxing.
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