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Tuesday, Jan. 7, 2003 - 2:54 p.m.

I have a better title

Imagine if television were another medium ��like print.

The three major national networks of CBS, NBC and ABC would be the equivalent of the New York Times, the Chicago Tribune and the Washington Post. The local affiliates of smaller national networks like UPN and the WB are similar to your regional Gannett-owned papers, the Indianapolis Star and Wilmington (Del.) News-Journal. Your cable channels would line up with magazines: ESPN is Sports Illustrated, MTV is a combo of Maxim and Cosmo, CNN equals Time and MSNBC lines up with Newsweek (they're sisters in real life, after all).

And then there's Fox. It's the tabloid rag of the airwaves, the New York Post, the Boston Herald, the Chicago Sun-Times, the London Sun, the Star, the National Enquirer. It's the network that airs Cops, every single category of home-video footage it can create (When Good Pets Go Bad!), Who Wants To Marry A Millionaire? and Fastlane. If topless women were allowed on network TV in America, Fox would surely work a breast into its logo.

How else do you explain Joe Millionaire?

For those of you claiming to have higher moral standards than the rest of us who slow down when we drive by a car wreck, Joe Millionaire is Fox's Bachelor-like matchmaking show wherein 20 desperate women are flown to France to try to win over a young bachelor worth $50 million.

That's what the chicks think. In reality, Evan (his name isn't even really Joe) Wallace (his middle name, not his real last name) is a construction worker who makes $19,000 a year. The desperate women are merely led to believe that he recently inherited $50 million. (Fox will delve further into the gutter in March when it premieres Married By America, wherein a man and a woman are paired up American Idol-style, by John and Jane Q. Public's votes.)

I admit it: I watched Joe Millionaire last night for the sleaze factor. How could you not? Yeah, in the end, some woman may have her dreams shattered when she's told that Evan isn't rich and 19 others will be relieved that they were shunned. But that's what you get when you stoop to appearing on television to meet a man. One woman (and I'm sorry I can't provide names here, but I was watching from work, and the tape at home didn't take) actually said on camera, "I think it will make a neat story someday to say, 'I met your father' or 'I met my husband on television.'" Yeah, just as romantic as saying, "I met your father at Hooters."

I believe that at one point, each and every woman on the show spoke of how they're looking for a man with money. They didn't hide it. One even said, "I don't want to be the breadwinner. I want someone who can support me."

Susan B. Anthony was just rocketed back into the 1700s.

The clips of the women talking about looking for money, then love, in that order, were spliced together with shots of Evan discussing how he's looking for someone nice whom he'll hopefully get to know well who will love him for who he is and not how much money he has. Yeah, fat chance, bub. I think it would've been cooler if he got to see the daily footage each night to know what the girls were all thinking. Maybe then he'd find the one true love.

The women were paired up and arrived at the French chateau in a horse-drawn carriage in wig-wearing, costumed actors borrowed from EuroDisney (or Disneyland Paris or Eisner's French Playland or whatever it's called now). At least one of them in each carriage recalled their childhood fantasies of one day being a princess.

Once at the chateau, Alex MacLeod � she of the cardboard personality who was kicked off Trading Spaces for being more bland than drywall � is the "host" of this charade. She came down the steps of the chateau to explain to the girls, all orderly aligned in a semicircle, how the events would unfold: There'd be a ball that night for them, for which 20 gowns were already arranged, and they'd all be led into the dining room to choose their gowns for the evening. After the ball, Evan would pick 12 of the 20 to stay. This, of course, led to a lot of cat fighting.

It is about this time that we really get to know Heidi, the only whore who's name stands out from this first episode (that I watched at work, several of us making comments continuously). She's the whoriest of the whores. She has a perpetual sneer on her face, her upper lip stuck in that position. In the scramble for the dresses, Heidi takes two at a time to hold in front of her while she looks in the mirror. At one point just before the ball, she toasts the room. While she may have said, "Some of us won't be here tomorrow, but I want you to know you're all great ... blah, blah, blah ... " it sure sounded like she said, "Some of you won't be here tomorrow ... "

The girls did get a chance to meet Evan before the ball. Having lived the life of a construction worker, Evan was given crash courses in etiquette by Paul Hogan (no, not that Paul Hogan), the butler, and various refined women on how to eat, choose wine, greet the ladies, waltz and ride a horse. So he rides up to the girls on a horse and chats with them. They greet him with a high-pitched sorority "Hi, Evan!" when he greets them and a collective, "Fine," when he asks how they, as a group, are doing. I swear this was rehearsed.

Afterwards, the women all gush about how cute and hot and handsome he is. I've decided by this point that the name of the show should be Ho Wants To Marry A Millionaire? They can't stop smiling, half of them with that stuck-up nose crinkle Alicia Silverstone portrayed so well in Clueless.

At the ball, Evan stands in the middle of the room while Paul leads them in one-by-one and introduces them to their "prince." Heidi immediately takes his hand and reads his palm while the others already in the room sneer � perhaps at her white bra peeking above the low-cut back of her dress. It's clear she'll be torn apart in her sleep if she's not careful. Another catches him off guard by asking what his middle name is. It's actually Wallace, which the producers have used as his last name, so he has to come up with something. For what seems like a minute, we see him thinking of something, with shots of Evan talking with the camera later explaining his thought process. He finally settled on his mother's maiden name: Elder.

Smooooooth.

After dancing (one ho calls him "a great dancer" just after he explains to the camera ��again � how horrible a dancer he is) and dining, it's time for Joe � er, Evan � er, Mac to choose the 12 he'll try to seduce with his GED education (actually, Evan seems smarter than he looks, if only slightly. He could think circles around half of the women). Alex MacLeod is propped up again to explain the process: Evan will hand out pearl necklaces ��yes, pearl necklaces ��to 12 of them. With each round, the jewlery will get more impressive.

The 12 have obviously been preselected, because Paul Hogan stands near Evan � who has his back to the ladies � with 12 necklaces on a tray and calls the ladies by name. They walk up to Evan, who fastens the necklaces around their necks with all the grace of Michael Jackson in a baby nursery. When Heidi is picked, the editors throw in a shot of a group of women sneering their disapproval.

The process complete, the other eight are asked by Alex to leave the island immediately, so they all turn and fake-hug those who get to stay before retreating to their rooms to pack up their crap.

And so we're left to eagerly anticipate next week's installment. I may actually root for Heidi, only to see her dreams dashed by Joe's lack of a fortune.

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