‘The tribe has spoken’

In a conciliatory effort & to get me stop sighing in disbelief (GOOD LORD, AMERICA, WHAT HAVE WE DONE???), Husband John Pitts suggested dinner out Wednesday night. My favorite go-to-comfort pasta dish at Vicari’s, in Corinth, Mississippi, was perfect & didn’t need extra seasoning from bitter tears of regret, so JP’s plan worked. He also, in his brilliant husbandly way, said exactly what I needed to hear amidst my sadness & despair: “You realize what this means, don’t you? Two words: Jeff Probst.”

Yes, it’s true. I can’t believe I was so mired in disappointment that I didn’t see THE ONE GOOD THING that happened Tuesday night, the path that has become clear, the antidote that has presented itself for political angst — Jeff Probst, beloved host of CBS’ reality classic, “Survivor,” for U.S. president.

I’m all in for 2020 but if he’d rather wait until 2024, that’s cool, too.

For years, I’ve believed that Probst would be a stellar president. Consider his qualifications:

  • He is kind, generous & empathetic. He’ll give you a tarp when a hurricane threatens your island. He’ll call the medics when you fall over after spending three hours in 98-degree heat standing on one foot balancing seven plates on your head. He’ll let you have chocolate chip cookies.And chickens.
  • He does not suffer nonsense gladly. He has standards. You lie about your grandmother dying, you reveal your miserable racist/homophobic/misogynistic self, you disrespect The Game — he will happily put out your torch.
  • He senses when you’re lying. He knows about your back-stabbing, conniving, double-crossing plans. He’s heard everything you thought you said in secret. But rather than call you out himself, he skillfully leads the conversation to a place where either 1) you confess your own indiscretions or 2) the folks in your alliance who promised undying loyalty & trust do it for you. Bus, meet blindside. Brilliant!
  • He’s smart. And funny. And brave. And can hang out of helicopters.
  • He looks as good in a tux as he does in cargo shorts & a baseball cap. Also — dimples.

The only qualification he lacked was political experience. I mean, he’s great on TV and being the boss of a bunch of people, but how could those things help him get elected?

Now, of course, we know the answer is “doesn’t matter.” And I’m fine with that. If we’re going off the traditional political grid to select our country’s leaders, it’s OK. I mean, things change. Downton Abbey, Greendale Community College & the Pawnee Parks & Rec Department could not last forever. Sometimes we have to face reality. So please let’s consider this election a sort of practice round. And get it right next time.

Jeff Probst for 20-something … we haven’t decided yet! But we DO know what we’re playing for.cwcslant

Survivor

Jeff ProbstI mean, if somebody really needs me tonight between 7 and 10, I’d probably maybe possibly pick up the phone. Perhaps. And if the house catches fire, I’d consider at least making sure the cats get out OK. But otherwise, you cannot pry me away from the TV because it is Survivor Finale Night and we get three hours of Jeff Probst and backstabbing, lies, blindsides, tears and Jeff Probst. And this season we even got a Dragon-Slayer/Coach who entertained us with stories of escaping little Amazonian cannibals while on a solo kayak trip yet never once demonstrated fire-making ability. Interesting. We also had two Alabama folks — one of whom, young cattle rancher J.T., is still in it right now and if my younger daughter did not already have a perfectly nice boyfriend I would so get them together. The other Alabamian, Debbie, a middle-school principal from Auburn, is on the jury. There’s also Taj, from Nashville, Tennessee, a former pop star whose husband is former NFL player Eddie George and who is also one of the four finalists. So I feel well represented tonight. The other finalists are Stephen, J.T.’s silent partner in crime, and Erinn, who has no chance whatsoever of winning the million dollars. But I’ve been wrong before, so we’ll see. The sad part is that this means “Survivor” is over for the season, but we get at least two more seasons. And that also means that one of my other favorite reality-competition shows, “So You Think You Can Dance,” will start soon. I’ve never gotten into “Dancing with the Stars” — I really don’t care if Lil’ Kim can do a tango or not — but SYTYCD has talented young dancers who just want a chance to prove themselves and some of the edgiest and most creative choreography you can see on TV.  And I can watch SYTYCD in the summer secure in the knowledge that Jeff Probst is out in a wilderness somewhere, keeping the “Survivor” torches glowing until it’s time for fall and season No. 19.