REASON 493: LOS ANGELES WILL EAT YOUR DREAMS FOR BREAKFAST
26 year-old Greg Insco‘s website begins, “The people that are crazy enough to change the world… DO.” Greg’s dream of changing the world? To be a contestant on Survivor. And knowing there was overwhelming competition to be noticed, Greg worked on a master plan… to walk directly from Cincinnati to the Survivor auditions being held at CBS in Santa Monica, more than 2,200 miles. The idea to make the journey on foot and hand deliver the tape first came from his best friend, Megan, who died more than two years ago. So as a tribute to her and his Tribal Council aspirations, he started his walk on April 9th youtubing and twittering the whole way. He arrived on Saturday. Along the way he didn’t lose faith… he was going to change the world and go to cast parties with Rudy Bosch come hell or painful blisters. He was going to follow the American dream and work hard… to get on a reality show.
Well, Greg made it to the auditions… and now that he’s completed his task? Was he rewarded for his efforts and callouses? Was he greeted with open arms by excited crowds and television producers? Nah. Survivor doesn’t want him. The casting director called him after his audition to inform Greg that he was “too nice” for the show and would “get eaten alive.” Have a nice walk home, kid.
After 74 days of walking and a nice heavy dose of rejection, when the 26 year old real estate agent returns to Cincinnati (he’s in the process of hitchhiking cross-country as I type this) he will be greeted by about $70,000 in credit card debt, foreclosed property and a repossessed truck. But in typical American dreamer fashion, “I’m working on a Plan B,” he says. “I’m not just going to lay down and give up. I gave up everything in my life for this.”
I’m a dreamer myself, and I love rooting for the little guy… but honestly, it’s time for us to hold a world-wide come to Jesus meeting with people like dear, sweet Greg. Here, I’ll start…
Jeff Probst and Simon Cowell are far less meaningful than the person you look at in the mirror every day. Trust me on this. Don’t expect a reality show to give your life meaning… before you let your home fall into foreclosure, please just take a deep breath, pick yourselves up and work on fixing your lives from the inside out, little dreamers! Take care of yourself first! Get a job. Pay off your car. Find a hottie to love. Nobody is going to give you a medal for turning your life to crap to get a little camera time, and a moment of camera time isn’t necessarily going to make your life a happy garden of rainbows and celebrity, either. I’m sorry, I wish life was that simple.
Being momentarily famous for running obstacle courses while starving on an island or competing to stick your tongue down some aging rocker’s throat is NOT a life goal. Reality television is NOT a good Life Plan A… it’s a Plan C at best. Ask Darva Conger and Evan Marriot. Fact of the matter is… Jeff Probst doesn’t hold the answer to all of your problems. (Phil Keoghan, maybe. Jeff? Nah.) Only *you* can find the answer, and you’re not going to discover it on a Tribal Council set.
Okay, now let’s hug it out. I know it’s hard to hear, but it was for your own good. I know it’s hard to believe, but Los Angeles cares about you, sweet dreamers. Honest. If it wasn’t for you there would *be* no Los Angeles.
And by the way, hitchhiking? Also not a great idea.