Save me from reality (shows) . . . 

I got up Monday morning and fired up the computer to check out my news feeds.

Sub-prime auto loans probed. What you need to know about Ebola. Inside Gaza ‘terror tunnels.’ Kim K. reaches milestone. Gang steals 1B passwords.

Wait a minute. How did a pseudo-celebrity make it into my news feed? I have never kept up with the Kardashians and don’t plan to any time soon. Just who made the decision that I give a rat’s patootie that someone famous for being famous has been married to a rapper for 73 days, surpassing the length of the last marriage to the basketball player? I realize that might be considered news in Hollywood, but not in the South. I would much rather read about the childhood sweethearts who have been married 73 years. (And I think most of my readers would as well.)

It got me thinking about so-called reality shows. I can proudly say I have never watched an episode of Survivor, which is more about how to play “The Social/Corporate BS Game” than how to survive if marooned on an island. If it was about the skills needed to live off the land, a backwoods redneck or a Special Forces soldier would win every time. If most of the show’s contestants actually found themselves deserted in the middle of nowhere, it would be like a remake of the movie “Paradise Lagoon.” They would be starving and begging for someone to help them.

It was only within the last year or so that I started watching any reality show. I know that TV executives love them because they don’t have famous people with huge contracts. Likewise, there is not a lot of money spent on writing. And there is no way I believe they are completely unscripted.

I love mysteries, sports, history shows and documentaries and Jeopardy. But it is hard to totally avoid reality shows.

Kathy and I started watching Duck Dynasty two seasons ago. Some of the plot lines got a bit far-fetched as the family got more and more famous. Then there was the whole fallout after Phil spoke his mind. Thankfully, things settled down a bit now.

Then I discovered American Pickers and American Restoration, a pair of vaguely similar shows. In the first show, two guys scour the countryside looking for items they can resell in their “antique” store. The other show documents a Las Vegas-based company restoring pieces of Americana and memorabilia. Both shows are pretty straightforward. There is not a lot of flash or subplots.

Somehow, we accidentally discovered Beverly Hills Pawn when it came on after a movie on the REELZ channel. It has the famous and wannabes bringing a wide variety of stuff to an upscale pawn shop where a Yul Brenner lookalike with a thick accent is willing to pay out top dollar for jewelry and movie memorabilia. He doesn’t blink at paying $200,000 for a gold watch. The three girls in the short black dresses don’t hurt when attracting viewers either.

Tuesday night, Kathy made me sit through the season premiere of Hollywood Hillbillies. It’s the Bizarro World version of the Beverly Hillbillies. The clean cut family values of the Clampetts are replaced with a corpulent grandmother who curses and talks about wanting a vibrator for Christmas.

Wait a second. Maybe I have become the demographic that TV folks are looking for, a reality show viewer. It makes me realize I might need to take a harder look at my viewing habits.

Thank God football season is around the corner. At least I will have a better option.