Flavor of Mads

There is a lost season of the TV show The Bachelor, that they may eventually put on DVD. It was never released because they could only get four episodes out of the footage they had. It was good that they had insurance.

Mads, my Norwegian companion, and I were sitting on the couch, going through our mail, eating Japanese take-out, and watching Days of Our Lives, when he drew my attention to one of his letters. It was from ABC, and they wanted him to be their next bachelor. They were impressed with his distinguished career in science (ornithology to be exact), his penchant for sophisticated living, and of course his family's estate. We flew down to New York with his lawyer, and perused the contract. I wasn't present when Mads and his attorney discussed the terms in private, but apparently he and the ABC executives were satisfied. Mads would be America's next bachelor.

That's when things went sour. Mads created a list of three-hundred books of which the bachelorettes had to have read at least fifty. The producers loved it, and set up a deal with Barnes and Noble to put the list on the ABC website so viewers could purchase them. What the producers didn't know was Mads's intention to cut every woman that didn't make the fifty book cut off. All but four of them passed: three that had over fifty, and one that hadn't read any of them. She was a former Miss Alabama or something (he couldn't remember what state, and said "one of those Southern ones"), and Mads was fascinated with her. To be honest, he's more fascinated with the entire concept of the American Beauty pageant. He finds them to be both ostentatiously and lugubriously American. I've actually attended several with him.

Anyway, the producers were shocked. He was only to remove ten of the thirty girls in this first episode, and 26 would be way too many. Mads said that if he wasn't allowed his way, then he'd leave the show. The producers threatened to sue, saying he was in breach of contract. Mads and his attorney thought differently. He'd found a clause allowing either he or the producers to remove any contestant at anytime for "conduct or attitudes detrimental to the well being of the show, the contestants, ABC..." I believe the clause was in place to remove a woman who attacked someone, or maybe if one of them turned out to be a Holocaust denier or something atrocious like that. It was a rather vague clause, though, and easily manipulated by Mads so that he could eliminate 26 women in one shot. The producers looked very dejected. Mads and his attorney got up to leave, and Mads patted one of them on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you have insurance."

So with four left, Mads thought a cross-country trip from LA to New York to eat cuisine cooked by his favorite chef, Bobby Flay, was in order. He also felt that a five hour plane ride would be ample time to read Thorton Wilder's The Bridge of San Luis Rey, a book none of the girls checked off as having read. He absolutely loves that book, and wanted to know what they thought. Only the Miss Whatever provided satisfactory conversation material (surprise surprise), and Mads cut the other three before the dinner.

Afterwards, Mads was considerably wasted, and decided it was time to meet Miss Whatever's parents. They made it there at two in the morning, and rousted the parents out of bed with the camera crew. He professed his undying love for their daughter, and made outrageous claims like he was the Prince of Norway and he could have anyone there killed if he wanted to. The producers had seen enough. They wrapped shooting, and sent Mads, me, and his attorney back to Boston. The next day I found the Pageant Queen sleeping on our couch.