Cry me a river

"The Bachelor" franchise, in order to flog its ratings into a frenzy tapped into a new market—seniors over 60 vying for the heart of one handpicked "Golden Bachelor.” It quickly became a cultural phenomenon on ABC, captivating audiences with its unique blend of romance, drama, and reality television. Cue the carefully orchestrated conflicts, strategic tears, and the occasional contestant with a hidden talent for spontaneously singing opera in the shower.

I had been a runner-up for the Golden Bachelor show and bowed out after extensive research into the back stage machinations, pros and cons, benefits and costs. I declined, so I felt compelled to watch the show and see what I was missing (not much as it turns out).

While "The Bachelor" has achieved immense popularity, it is not without its fair share of controversies and criticisms. The franchise has faced scrutiny for its casting choices, handling of diversity, and the ethical considerations surrounding the production. Despite the critiques, the show continues to be a significant player in the reality TV landscape, maintaining its status as the ultimate romantic competition on television.

The first episode was interesting, then quickly turned creepy. Gerry Turner, the leading man, was tall, spray tanned, highlighted hair and a fabricated Don Johnson stubble (do they even have those in Iowa?) The producers at ABC created a syrupy sweet story about his marriage to his high school sweetheart, Toni, who tragically died right after she retired and they had purchased their dream home on a lake.

The good part—all of women on the show were fabulous. All were trim, toned, had careers and interesting engaged lives. They were fun, funny, sexy, sporty and vibrant. They were like the cool aunts in your family and a testament that you’re not too old for that or anything else.

These ladies were also game. Why else would you want to give up your creature comforts at home and live with four strangers in a bunkbed furnished bedroom—especially when you have replaced knees and hips? This is where I hope that ABC was adequately insured. A slip and fall on those Spanish tiles could have lead to an early exit from the bachelor mansion.

From the beginning, Gerry was portrayed as innocent as Iowan snow, talking to a picture of his wife that he keeps in his closet and crying at the drop of a pin. The story spun was that he had not so much as glanced in the general direction of a woman since his beloved wife Toni died.  His “Aw, shucks” persona made me uncomfortable and was not believable in fact, I smelled something rotten in Denmark. My antennas were up and I got the sense that all was not as it seemed.

Turns out, I was right. The Hollywood Reporter dropped a juicy expose a few days before the finale about the not so golden, Golden Bachelor, Gerry Turner. The widower who said he “hadn’t dated in 45 years” had been in a serious relationship, just one month after his wife died.The facade was pierced when an ex-girlfriend threw Gerry under the bachelor bus. This was followed by another piece In Touch about Gerry’s sleight of hand.

Who needs transparency when you can have smoke, mirrors, and a carefully crafted narrative that rivals a Shakespearean tragedy?

Thus Gerry Turner was reborn and shaped out of Pygmalionesque clay. The producers branded him as a retired restauranteur—sounds fancy and monied, right? Wrong. He sold his diners in the mid 1980’s and had recently worked installing hot tubs as well as a maintenance man (aka janitor) at a mental health facility, where he met his ex-girlfriend “Carolyn.” According to The Hollywood Reporter’s vetted article, they had nearly a three year relationship and she was 14 years younger than Gerry. They met while he was still married and started dating a few weeks after his wife’s death. Turner made a promise to Carolyns elderly mother that he intended to marry her.

Was Gerry the puppet or the puppeteer in this elaborate dating dance? Some say he's the mastermind, carefully orchestrating heartbreaks for the sake of good television. Others claim he's just a pawn in ABC's grand chess game of love. Whatever the truth, one thing is for sure – Gerry's love life is the reality TV equivalent of a rollercoaster on steroids or a Latinx telenovela.

But hey, nothing spells 'forever' like a proposal in front of a camera crew, right?