Let’s begin with a disclaimer: I have probably seen a total of 30 minutes of the show “Average Joe: Hawaii,” so I barely am qualified to buy the products advertised during the commercial breaks.
However, I was able to form such strong opinions about the show during that half-hour that I forced myself to do research so I could determine if “Average Joe” was as distastefully satisfying as I thought it might be.
The concept, for those of you fortunate enough to have programmed your TiVos to bypass all reality programming, is simple: An attractive woman must meet a group of “average-looking” guys and decide which one is the “Joe” for her.
This sort of arrangement appeals to the American male’s sense of entitlement that goes: “No matter how ugly and out of shape I am, I deserve a hot-bodied, angelic-face cover girl because I am swell.”
It seems like a good deal for these socially inept losers until the show throws a twist at them and boats in a regiment of rippled abs and golden hair to steal the limelight.
“Average Joe: Hawaii” is actually the second installment of the “Average Joe” idea. But this time around the Joes are even more average than when the reality show first aired in fall 2003. And by average, I mean that when one of the contestants called the show “Nerd Island,” he hit the nail right on its misshapen head.
But the averageness of the Joes is not the only thing that separates the Hawaii edition of the show from the previous edition, set in Palm Springs.
For instance, in the first series, the woman’s name was Melana Scantlin and she was an NFL cheerleader, which is totally different from the new contestant, Larissa Meeks, who is a former Miss USA contestant. On top of that, Scantlin appeared to be a blond while Meeks is a brunet. In order to properly take its place among the pantheon of great television shows, “Average Joe: Hawaii” needed to do something big.
It needed to redefine the word average, but in doing so, it takes to a new low viewers’ impressions of what the average guy really looks like.
I don’t know any guys who are both good-looking enough or in the peak physical condition that one must achieve to model Calvin Klein underwear. But unless the television adds 50 pounds of weight and 10 pounds of ugly, all of the average-looking guys I know are better looking than all of the guys who were chosen to be this season’s “stars.”
Normally, I’d be miffed that a show was intentionally lowering the nation’s beauty mean, but this might be a good thing for the real average guys everywhere.
Other reality dating shows, such as “Joe Millionaire,” “The Bachelorette” and “The Bachelor” have spent years inflating women’s expectations that the average guy looks like an advertisement for Ripped Fuel. This has caused women to look at average men as hideous affronts to nature.
But “Average Joe” can turn that all around.
A few more seasons of watching these beauties wrestle over these beasts, and average guys like me will look absolutely stunning.
———-
Send e-mail to eedwards@orlandosentinel.com.
