On Mon nite, my 2 nineteen year old daughters are laser-locked on the saga of Ms. Bachelorette and her Freudian workout w/ a cast of 15 or so dudes trying to make that dynamic E-Harmony match… Gosh, I struggle remembering to call the dentist to cancel my wife's appt. I can't imagine what this gal must be going through trying to sort out the thousands of different nuances in each of her potential partner's lives to see who might be Mr. Right. And that, of course, is in front of millions of TV viewers. HMMM… Add the never-ending flow of champagne in those funky fluted glasses and your boring setting of either Tahiti or French Riviera, and you've got the most un-realistic environment to experience who that fellow really is. Maybe a better context would be spending 2 weeks in Port-Au-Prince cleaning up rubble…I guarantee that Betty Bachelorette would have a pretty good idea what she and these men are really like over the long haul.