First, I want you to know that I’m as romantic as the next girl while bearing in mind I also have a practical streak; I can appreciate doing the right thing for the wrong reason. When a couple-dozen of America’s young women are willing to compete ON TV for cash prizes, 15-minutes-of-Fame, and a marriage proposal from a total stranger, well, I get choked up. It’s the American Way! 

[Note: having burned my bra in the day and learned to be proud of who I AM, such as it is, as opposed to piggy-backing my worth based on my hubby’s accomplishments, I’ve long since developed a sour taste for those whose human development isn’t as it might be with a little effort.]

What I’m saying is, does it surprise you that a beauty queen wannabe, a Cheerleader–ferchristsake–for a pro-football team, would join the ranks of those competing for the glass slipper….er….ring and proposal from The Bachelor.

The Bachelor is an original one hour prime-time reality television series that gives one man and 25 women the unique opportunity to find true love in a most exciting and adventurous way. The Bachelor will get to know the 25 women in a series of fun, exciting and exotic dates that will elicit real and raw emotions. Along the way he must follow a gradual process of elimination, as his…

Now, for the happily ever after part.  You’re gonna love this.  Mary Delgado, winner of The Bachelor proposal in 2004, was arrested two days after Thanksgiving for punching out the man she lives with, whom she describes as her fiance (after living with him for three years.)  The reason for the assault wasn’t given, nor her fiance’s name–however, it WAS NOT The Bachelor who proposed to her in ‘04.  She was released from the pokey a short while later.  Ah, romance.

I don’t know about you, but I like my fairy tales with happier endings–after all, the original Cinderella was a mistreated, hard-working stepchild for whom all ended well. Even if you prefer Liberation Literature, it’s plainly not nice to punch a guy’s lights out, spend time in the slammer for it, then expect to ride away in a mouse-drawn pumpkin.  But that’s just me; I could be wrong.

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