Lately my husband wonders if I’m as smart as he’s always thought, because I’ve been watching “Pawn Stars,” a History Channel reality show. Not just the new episodes. One. After. Another.
I say, who knew there were so many weird collectables and so many rich collectors? Furthermore, it’s pretty cute how Rick Harrison giggles when he thinks he’s said something funny. And I have to like old people who pretend to work, like the dull-eyed Old Man who says he’s the one in charge of the shop.
I like to imagine how the TV production staff might work with people who bring odd items to the shop to sell, whether they film those people the day they come in or wait for research and scripting.
I wonder how much the director rehearses the Old Man’s digs at everyone. (“Okay, Old Man, now give some &*#@ to Chumlee.”) Are the items’ histories printed on a teleprompter? I’m pretty sure the Old Man reads his.
“Pawn Stars” has no laugh track, no booming synthesizer, and few commercials. It’s a great choice for bedtime, slow enough to lull me to sleep.
So there it is, my number ten confession, and I’m highly relieved to get this one off my chest. Maybe a “Pawn Stars” producer will comment. Or one of the stars–that’d show my husband! Rick, are you listening?
Watch for upcoming revelations. In the meantime, ‘fess up. What lame show has you hooked?