Props to anyone who specifically requested them. And props to Adam, because he requested the nicest.
"Hi," an autopilot Chris Harrison says by way of introduction as he walks up the gentle slope from the base of Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain to its apex near the entrance of the Bachelor Pad. "I'm Chris Harrison, and welcome to..." Yes? YES? "The Bachelor." Ah. He stares with his cold, dead, robotic, game-show-host eyes directly into the camera as if to say "One of my own kind stares with a single red eye back at me," stifles his robot impulse to run up to the camera, embrace it in the throes of robot love and wail "BROOOOOOTHER!," and instead sticks to the ones and zeroes of the cue cards facing his way in continuing, "Tonight, the journey begins again." He enunciates the "again" with an almost sarcastic relish, telegraphing in that one word that he knows we've heard this script before and he knows there's nothing left that can really surprise us and he knows that "this season there will be some surprises" actually means, "This season will be exactly the same as the others, except for the part where we show you some shots of the girls' pee-pee in containers for no apparent reason." He knows it all to be true. And yet the ChrisBot was trained not to think on his own, not to tell us what he knows.
"America, you asked for him and you got him!" Toyota? Oh, lord. Barely a moment from the opening shot of the season and I've already resorted to a Forget Paris joke. People, I think we're in some serious trouble here. On his continuing journey up Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain, Chris stops to splash about a bit in the gentle rapids of Excessive Backstory Creek, reminding us through the finely honed art of recapping (which is best left to the professionals, really), "Our newest bachelor, Bob, captured America's attention as he tried to win Trista's heart. But when Trista decided to marry Ryan, women all over the country wanted their shot at Bachelor Bob." Ninety-seven self-effacing fat jokes and sixteen extraneous guys all mysteriously named "Brian" later, a gelled-haired legend and completely unnecessary book deal were born. "Now the tables are turned" -- though we were often reminded that the tables were also turned when Trista was holding the roses, so does this mean that they're turned back? Or that they're turned further? Or that they're physically upside-down? And with all that furniture rearranging going on, how come my chair is still FACING A TELEVISION THAT REQUIRES ME TO WATCH THIS SHOW FOR UPWARDS OF EIGHT HOURS A WEEK? -- "and the roses are in his hand, as twenty-five beautiful women will compete for Bob's love." The perfectly coiffed CompuChris makes a move for the red light and we cut away hastily. Poor Chris. So very, very over it. "For the first time ever," Chris continues, completing his climb up Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain and gingerly sidestepping the sign reading "You must be at least this tall to climb Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain -- hey, not so fast, Firestone," as he tells us, "Our bachelorettes already know who the bachelor is. And they all believe that Bob could be the man of their dreams." Yeah, Chris. And there's another word for people who experience delusions that they know someone well enough to marry him just because they saw him on television. They're called stalkers, they're unbalanced and dangerous, and the "limos" that they usually ride around in have a locked metal grate separating the passenger in the back from the arresting officers in the front.
“ Bob at a sporting event. Bob signing an autograph. Bob holding a microphone in Times Square. Bob rescuing a little boy who has fallen past a guardrail and over Niagara Falls. Bob taking the oath of office in assuming the presidency of Liberia from deposed and exiled despot Charles Taylor. ”
"Since appearing on The Bachelorette, Bob's life has changed dramatically." For one thing, now it exists exclusively in montage form. Cut to a clips package of Not-Skinny- But-Not-Exactly- Fat-Either Bob (as opposed to the current and COMPLETELY reformed Not-Fat-But- Not-Exactly- Skinny-Either Bob) appearing on The Bachelorette, doing that Running Man or Mashed Potato or Roger Rabbit or whatever the kids were doing at The Seventh-Grade Dance right before standing ramrod straight and slowdancing to "Eternal Flame." Bob dancing. Bob dancing more. Bob on a bus on the way to a group date making fun of his own weight. Bob on a beach with Trista, under the cover of stars, telling her that "the only thing I ever worry about is that you think I'm a joker 24/7," when in fact the apparent truth is that Bob's ability to joke seems, what, entirely powered by the sun? He needs tungsten! Tungsten to live! More montage! Bob ruing his use of the words "the only thing I ever worry about" when he should have been far more concerned with the worry that he wouldn't get a rose. Which he doesn't. Bob telling us, "I felt a connection with her. I did. And I would love to maintain my pride and say I didn't, but that would be a lie." Maintaining of pride no longer an option or a concern, then, here he is today.
Hey, it's Meet the Staff. I love Meet the Staff! It's a really good lead-in to Remind the World Who Oprah Is, lest we try and forget. We catch up behind the scenes with co-executive producer Lisa Levenson, who tells us, "Bob only appeared on three episodes of The Bachelorette before Trista sent him home. Everywhere he goes, everybody loves him. Bob is a superstar." Shot of Bob on one of his aforementioned sixty-four appearances on Oprah. Bob at a sporting event. Bob signing an autograph. Bob holding a microphone in Times Square. Bob rescuing a little boy who has fallen past a guardrail and over Niagara Falls. Bob taking the oath of office in assuming the presidency of Liberia from deposed and exiled despot Charles Taylor. Bob inventing radium. Bob hitting a game-winning home run! The Giants (and Bob) win the pennant! The Giants (and Bob) win the pennant! Bob appearing on whatever Caroline Rhea's show is called (The Caroline Rhea Show, 'haps?), though no one bothers to mention that he is accompanied by his ventriloquist dummy sidekick Jamie. Remember him? Maybe no one brought it up because Jamie still has some of those lingering anxiety issues and they didn't want to make him too nervous. So, ssssssh.
And now, let's hear from the man himself. So pipe down, rabid America and the miniscule parts of Canada blessed with the gift of television antennae that have thawed enough to allow for the temporary transmission of the ABC network, god bless their frozen souls. Bob deserves his own confessional now, okay? The man did, after all, invent radium: "I think being on The Bachelorette did a lot of things for me. It definitely allowed me to have an opportunity to connect with some people I might not have been able to connect with otherwise." Like his agent. And his publisher. And Oprah. And Caroline Rhea. Nah, take back the last one. I'm sure anybody who wants to could probably meet Caroline Rhea if they truly put their minds to it. Back at the production offices, co-executive producer Lisa Levenson muses on the matter, quoting verbatim from a memo generated by the network's publicist and sent to "All Concerned" with the subject line "Folksy, Homespun Bob: Talking Points For a Bachelor Like No Other." To wit: "Bob is almost the anti-Bachelor. He doesn't have the smoothness of Alex or the great looks of Aaron or the money of Andrew." Oh, my god, you guys? I don't want to freak anybody out, but I think what they're trying to say and what I'm quickly coming to realize is that Bob is exactly like you or me! I feel this total affinity for him suddenly. Just like me! The talking points! They're working! They're working! They're...hey, how'd all this ooky weird gel get into my hair?
“ 'I still love my ex-wife. I always will. We had an amicable split, which actually allowed me to learn a lot about myself. I became a lot stronger as a result of it.' Cue 'The More You Know' starfall. ”
Lisa Levenson looks at a big board of Polaroids of chicks and asks a surrounding group, "Which girl do we think is the craziest about Bob?" There are little Post-It notes over some of the girls' faces, and my favorite note, which appears multiple times, reads, "No Passport." That's an odd way to get eliminated. Lindsey King, for some reason, is labeled "Surprise." Is that significant? Nah. Lisa confessionalizes, "Bob really deserves the best, and I think he's going to be really pleased with the women we found." A quick flood of twenty-five rectangular glamshots follows. Which girl do we think is the craziest about Bob? After watching the whole episode, I'm inclined to think the only word Lisa Levenson's colleagues took to heart was "crazy."
"By now," ListlessChris intones, "most of us realize that Bob is just a regular guy. He certainly isn't your typical Bachelor candidate." Yup. I guess "All Concerned" really does mean everybody. "Let's take a look at some things you may not know about Bob." Again? When a news story falls through the cracks, Entertainment is there to catch it for a segment we call "Back in Bob." And here it is: a series of childhood photos of Li'l Bob (which, if these were my family's pictures, would be accompanied by a soundtrack of Paul Anka's "The Times Of Your Life," but then again my family are a bunch of overly sentimental pussies. No, they're not. I'm just kidding. I'd hate to make 'em cry if they read that), with Bob's voice-over: "I was pretty happy about my folks deciding to consummate their marriage and give birth to me. I was obviously extremely cute." The quips! The cracks! The elliptical, Wilde-ian linguistic tricks! Somebody give this man a book deal! And make him captain of the football team and president of his high-school class. Which he was. And which he was. A knee injury ended his promising football career in college, after which he turned back to "his love of performing," forming a band called "Fat Amy" that, according to the Harrison-supplies voice-over, released two CDs." And let that one "Mystery Oldie" clip we just heard of them be the only Fat Amy featured on this show. Seriously. Or I'll call the health officials who collected the urine during the last montage and make them start testing for opportunistic synergy. ["Um, Djb? Definitely do not click on this link." -- Wing Chun] Blah blah graduated from college with a degree in Communications, married his high-school sweetheart, and co-founded a mortgage company. And thus comes to an end the story of the rest of the American middle-class. But for Bob, there was more in store. Like divorce. And chunking up. Bob sits on the ledge of a deck musing, "I still love my ex-wife. I always will. We had an amicable split, which actually allowed me to learn a lot about myself. I became a lot stronger as a result of it." Cue "The More You Know" starfall. You guys? He's just like you and me. Except I can pronounce "amicable" in one try.
“ Way to bring those razor-sharp interviewing skills to the fore, Chris. Why not try another one of your softball questions? Why not just break down completely and ask the dude if he likes softball? ”
Good show, Chris. Way to bring those razor-sharp interviewing skills to the fore. Why not try another one of your softball questions? Why not just break down completely and ask the dude if he likes softball? Chris continues with the third degree, asking, "What does Mrs. Guiney look like in your mind's eye?" Bob responds, "Y'know, every time you say that, I can't help but think...she looks like my mom." Wow. At least we know that if this season is finally the one that succeeds in making me gouge my own eyes out, it will, for once, comes in its proper Oedipal context. Just kill me dead when I start casually referring to Chris Harrison as "The Oracle." Thanks. I'm glad we had this talk.
If this limo's a-rockin', I can't believe you're still watchin'. As the old Southern saying goes. The first limo pulls up, the women clapping their hands and yelling, "Bob Bob Bob Bob Bob!" And out they step, one by one. Do we have to meet them again? AGAIN? I just DID this! Oh, very well:
First is Jenn who, by the very virtue of stepping out of a car, makes Bob crack up. Somewhere on Long Island, my grandmother's age-old collection of Hummel figurines shakes precariously for a moment and then falls backwards onto the floor, shattering into a billion pieces. Hummel suicide. It's hard on everyone. Jenn's so excited to "finally" meet Bob, and she suggests to him, "I think we should just leave and make it easy for everyone." He laughs again, and my computer monitor develops a hairline crack, my reflection in the screen grabbing its face and screaming in anguish like the end of the opening credits of You Can't Do That On Television gone way, totally wrong.
Everyone knows it's Misty, and Misty is wearing a purple dress. She tells us in a confessional that if she didn't get a rose, she'd be "sad." Well, Misty, we hate to see you sad. But more than that, we hate to see you at all. So we're on the fence about the whole "you getting a rose" phenomenon. But we'll see. I honestly just don't remember.
One of the Lindsays is wearing a black dress, and she's so goth.
Darla "finally" gets to meet Bob, and he's so excited at her out-of-context exuberance that they share a loud laugh together, throwing me out of my chair and Jupiter permanently out of orbit. She tells us in a confessional that her own parents were engaged after knowing each other for six weeks, and they've been married for thirty years. "So there's a whole bachelor/bachelorette story for you, but on a much more subtle scale." So, fewer helium balloons, then? But then how did they know when to be happy?
Julie is happy to "finally" meet Bob.
Limo #2 pulls up, and the five women who are already installed in the house call to Bob to tell the other limos to go home. Don't make him laugh. DON'T MAKE HIM LAUGH.