lessons learned on the jersey shore

Like most of America with a television set and more than a few hours to kill, over my (last EVER. sob) winter break I became hooked on following the antics of seven people chosen by MTV to live, drink, and make mistakes in a shore house in Seaside Heights.  I was obsessed by the perfect storm created by their hair extensions, blowouts, hookups and their irrepressible “beating up the beat” style of dancing, watching episodes over and over just so I could hear Pauly D say once again, “The Situation’s makin’ out with his girl, I’m makin’ out with my girl…we’re gonna have sex.”  As trashy as the events that went down each episode were, and as much as I tried to distance myself from any resemblance of the gelled, tanned, supremely muscled cast, I couldn’t stop watching.

Especially during the latest episode, where Ronnie eventually goes to jail for knocking out some hecklers on the boardwalk who were criticizing the group.  I thought to myself, dang, as annoying-looking as they are, why do so many random strangers seem to have a problem with people who really aren’t trying to cause trouble?  I realized then that before watching this show, I too was a guido-heckler, albeit a private one, mocking the burnt-sienna-toned Ed-Hardy-wearers that Long Island (represent!) seems to spawn.  Maybe one thing we can learn from Snooki, The Situation, JWoww et al. is that beneath the Cadillac tattoos and the barely-there club apparel, we’re all the same, you know?  And after the many hours logged studying this particular set of the American people, I will promise not to judge anyone until we’ve sat down for Jager Bombs.  I’ve written too much about this show already, so I’m just going to stop now.

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