As a kid, any time I was sick from school I would curl up on my parents’ bed and watch the wonderful world of daytime television.
I wasn’t particularly thrilled by the talk show hosts and their interviews. But the game shows? Those, I lived for.
And my Mecca, my truly happy place, was The Price Is Right. As a youngster, I didn’t notice the annoying screams and giggles from the contestants.
I overlooked Bob Barker’s penchant for making female contestants reach into his pocket to see what they’d find. (Fortunately, it was just a $100 bill.) I dreamed of that ugly jacket and its magical compartment. And wondered who was going to be lucky enough to get a chance at … a new car!
The Price Is Right was pure fantasy for me. Of course, Canada’s idea of the great game show at the time was Headline Hunters, Reach for the Top and Definition.
And contestants were bizarrely thrilled to go home with a Brother typewriter, a luxurious sheepskin coat or a five-day trip to "fabulous downtown Toronto".
Today, we’re a little more high maintenance. We aim for $1 million grand prizes and scoff at the player who goes home with a measly $100,000. And the prize shows?
A co-worker noted the other day that Drew Carey and his TPIR ladies had hit an all-time low. They had given away a grass hut.
Okay, it’s an odd prize. Is this something people want in their backyard? Or better yet, is it worth the income tax they’ll have to pay on it? But it is still a prize. So what’s the problem?
Instead of ooh-ing and aahh-ing over the items to be won, we critique the trips we’d take or whether we’d even want to win what was being offered.
Have we developed more sophisticated tastes over the years? Or is it just plain greed?
We could claim inflation. But the shows have certainly kept up with the cost of living.
The truth is, to quote Billy Idol, we want "more, more, more". By seeing seven-figure cash prizes once too often, our once simple dreams have followed fellow Canadian Howie Mandel to the Promised Land of Hollywood.
There, even the hint of a briefcase of money can turn even the most fiscally responsible Canuck into a money whore.
Why else would we welcome Wipeout across our borders this spring?
This show forces competitors through the world’s largest obstacle course designed to knock ’em down and drag ’em through the mud, or water, or whatever sludge they create.
It’s truly a testament to the power of money. And how dirty we’re willing to get to acquire a little bit more.
Somehow, that sheepskin coat seems to have a little more dignity than it did 30 years ago.
