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0302220328
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
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<DATE>
030223
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<TDATE>
Sunday, February 23, 2003
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM; CHOICES
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<PAGE>
1K
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<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM FREE PRESS COLUMNIST
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<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

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<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 2003, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
HOW DO I LOVE THEE? ANYWAY BUT ON TV!
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<BODY>
Ifinally figured out the appeal of Trista Rehn, a.k.a. "The Bachelorette."

She's a guy.

Oh, I don't mean physically. I mean the way she plays the game. First, she
gets the ultimate guy fantasy -- a couple of dozen cuties all trying to win
her affection.

Then, one by one, she tries and discards them, just like a guy. And when she
narrows it down to two, she tells one partner, "Don't be upset if I sleep with
the other one."

And the partner says OK!

Are you kidding? This woman would be King of the Frat House!

Of course, this is where the similarity ends. A real guy would not, as the
Bachelorette did, accept a marriage proposal from the surviving suitor. A real
guy would run. A real guy would shout, on his way out the door: "Are you
kidding me? I've only spent, what, a couple of days alone with you? It was a
TV show! Chill out!"

Oh, if it were only that simple.

Instead, American audiences -- riveted to the idea that true love only comes
once a week, in prime time, in front of a director and a camera crew -- must
endure the pitiful babbling of this ex-professional cheerleader when she weeps
before her new fiance and says: "I see smiles and laughter. I see babies and
grandbabies. I see comfort and safety. I see me in a white dress."

I see a sequel. That's what I see.



No way to find true love

Now, it's bad enough that those lines and others were obviously written or
coached for this wanna-be TV star. (She actually told the runner-up, through
more tears, "My heart has gone another way." Wow. I smell Oscar.)

But let's cut the hypocrisy, OK? This is a woman who was ready to find true
love by being one of 25 women who threw themselves at "The Bachelor." When she
lost, she jumped at the chance to star in her own show. She's already parlayed
that into another TV gig. You get the pattern? It's called "I'll do whatever
it takes to be famous."

Fine. It's her life. But people like Trista are here for entertainment, not
for education. When she starts lecturing on true love, I go looking for the
exit.

If you want to know the future for this woman, look to the past. Look at Darva
Conger, the woman who wanted to "marry a multimillionaire." Remember? She,
too, professed true love to her TV match. Once the cameras were off, she
called him a creep. She dumped him. Then she posed for Playboy.

The pattern repeats. The original Bachelor -- who passed on Trista -- has
never married the woman he chose. Why? The camera's off, that's why. The
second Bachelor not only hasn't married his choice but he's also bickering
with her -- and they've made THAT into a TV show.

Whatever it takes.



No engagement gifts needed

Now, I know there are some gentle souls who see the pretty blond and the Vail,
Colo., fireman and say: "Oh, come on. Wish them well."

Why wish them well? They've taken a wonderful institution -- engagement and
marriage -- and desecrated it. They've shown millions of young people that
falling in love should be done in sound bites. They've chased fame and called
it romance. Why wish them well?

You know who I wish well? Real people, who've put in real time. Who don't get
handed French mansions or first-class plane tickets. Who wake up in the
morning with bad breath and pillow head -- not in the green room of "Good
Morning America."

Such "real" reality, by the way, is what awaits Miss Trista, whether she likes
it or not. Fame is fleeting. Ask Darva. What will Trista and her paramour do
when the newspapers stop calling and the morning shows aren't interested?
They'll split up. If they ever bother to get married.

It may not sound romantic. But these are the new vows, created by the
networks, blessed by the advertisers. I want you. I love you. I'll marry you.

Till death -- or a drop in the ratings -- do us part.



Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or  albom@freepress.com. "The Mitch Albom
Show" is 3-6 weekdays on WJR-AM (760).
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