Judgment Day - August 2010

I try not to be judgmental, but there are just too many occasions when I can’t help but express my opinions. Although I am completely unqualified in so many areas, that lack of expertise in no way inhibits me from issuing my own verdict about practically anything.

Take dancing, for instance. Having watched all of the seasons of “Dancing With the Stars” – and I use that latter term loosely, based on my judgment of who is really a star – I now find myself opining on the contestants’ musicality, extension and the difficulty of the choreography. Me, whose entire ballroom dancing experience consists of Bunny and Stan Scharf showing me how to do the cha-cha when I was 12. I am equally qualified as a singer, or, at least, I certainly know bad singing when I hear it because that is all I can do. Yet, when “American Idol” airs, I immediately feel free to offer my opinion of the vocal talents of people 16-28 years old – even though no one has asked. Now that Simon and Ellen have left the show and, given my availability, I am waiting for a call from Hollywood officially asking me to join the judges’ panel. Don’t you think I’d be better than J Lo? I’d be much less expensive – and considerably less diva-like (I would agree to any color M&Ms in my dressing room, thank you, and any brand of bottled water, as long as it is cold, will do).

My ability to judge the creative arts appears to have no boundaries. Each year I dutifully note which clothing designers are the best and worst on “Project Runway,” even though I cannot even sew on a button successfully (I blame my eyes for not being able to thread the needle as I drop things off at the cleaners for repair). I quickly identified the bottom two designers on the new season of “Design Star,” and, though I know even less about art than dancing, singing and design, I promptly decided which aspiring artist should pack her brushes and go on the new program, “Work of Art.” Not being able to taste the food on cooking shows like “Top Chef” doesn’t stop me from deciding which chefs should pack their knives and go. And that’s not just a case of giving low scores to the ones who sweat into their food, either.

On the HGTV show “House Hunters,” I watch prospective homeowners look at three houses and decide which of the three to buy. One has big bedrooms but a bad backyard, while another has a room for a “man cave” but not enough room for the wife’s shoes (they never have enough room for the wife’s shoes). At the end of the show, while we review the attributes of each abode, I helpfully hold up one, two or three fingers to tell them which one to choose. When they choose one that I didn’t choose for them, I try to be happy for them, even though I know they made the wrong choice.

Recent editions of “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette” also have ignored my verbal pleas as someone gets down on one knee and proposes to the wrong person. I don’t want to say “I told you so,” but Jake and Vienna split before Ali and Roberto became a match (and this time, one of which I approve).

It’s not like I always want to be “Judge Judy.” I like the competition shows where the conclusion is clear. On “The Amazing Race,” for example, the last team to arrive at the pit stop is eliminated (unless it is a non-elimination round, that is). It’s easy: Come in last and you go home. But on programs where strategy is involved, such as “Survivor,” I just pick out the people I don’t like or trust and give thanks I am not stuck in a jungle with them, peeing in a bush and brushing my teeth with a leaf. On other shows, such as “America’s Got Talent,” we are asked to judge an earnest young singer whose father has leukemia versus a guy who juggles chain saws. Sometimes it is easier just to change the channel.

In the end, at least I am glad I am making my judgments on these shows based on the merits of the talent as I perceive it. I don’t watch shows like “The Real Housewives of Fill-In-the-Blank” or “America’s Next Top Model.” That’s because I don’t need to see those programs to judge them. I have already decided they aren’t worth my time.