Well at long last I can break the silence: I was a reality show contestant. In the summer of 2003 I ended up on Cupid, a me-too bachelorette style show with a beautiful girl, 10 guys, and no creative direction. It might have been a bigger success if:

  • it wasn't a summer series, or,
  • had a better idea of how to distinguish itself, or
  • if it wasn't so unreservedly mean (the "friends" of Lisa, Kimberly and Laura, tried to be a Simon Cowell, but for unknown reasons, we actually like Simon), or
  • if Lisa was actually interesting.

For those of you who didn't watch, the final two bachelors included Robert Amstler, America's favorite Austrian import, even though it was painfully obvious that Lisa didn't like him. Since America voted on who to keep each week, it became pretty obvious that America a) loves an underdog and b) wanted to stick it to Lisa.

So while my friends & family knew I was on the show, I wasn't allowed to talk about the show for a year. Now that more than a year has passed, I can finally post these pictures from the Cupid finale. Enjoy!

 
The day before the finale:    
I was supposed to fly in two nights earlier, and got trapped in Phoenix thanks to ATA Airlines (never again)! Most of the gang got in on time and partied like rock stars the night before till the wee morning hours. I got in around 11 AM and was off to the tuxedo shop for our fittings (Why did they make me bring a tux for this show again? The show was full of stupid stuff like that). Joe was a no-show, having partied well into the AM with a girl who wore him out.  
    At the tuxedo shop, Ken, Paul, and Renda pause for a picture.

The reject crew: Paul, me, Ken, Robert Wiles, and Renda;
at left, Paul gets friendly with the LA natives.

 
     

After the tuxedo shop, with time on our hands, we went over to Rob's place in Hermosa Beach. Rob is basically the de facto mayor — everybody knows this guy wherever we went. He took us over to his apt to chill for a while, and then over to his favorite sports bar for Monday Night Football. (On the way over, Renda started bargaining with some guy to buy his car for $750, as he was planning to make a go of LA, and need both transportation AND a place to stay, and the car was looking pretty good.)

You'll see us singing in these pics a lot: Robert and Paul wrote a song while we were on the show called "Nine Estranged Hearts," about the experience of being in this surreal environment. We all really got into it (it was catchy) and we used to sing it backstage right before the live show to get psyched up. Brought back together one last time, we were getting back in the swing of things.

 
    Robert and Renda rockin out.
 
Robert sings his heart out into his tennis racquet mike as Paul accompanies on guitar.   More serious rockin from Robert playing rhythm racquet.
 
Get down with your bad self Robert!   So simple, anyone can use it. Ken and I take pictures of each other taking pictures of each other. We were already drunk, sue me.
 

At this point, Joe was alive and had joined us (left). He had lost almost 30 pounds -- he looked great. Above, more singing. We dug the song and dug being together again. Call us silly, I don't care.

    page two