Respect Authority

When I went to a taping of The Montel Williams Show a few years back, a lot of thoughts crossed my mind: “Why am I here?” “Look how fat that woman is” “I’m totally accidentally enjoying myself” – but at no point did I think to myself “Wow, Montel is really and truly a paradigm of intellect and class.” 

Which is why, when reading a New York Times article this morning on Montel’s fall from grace — from the realm of daytime talk television to that of late-night talk infomercials — I was surprised to find that Montel is actually capable of sinking lower.

The one-time talk star, whose show was canceled (who knew?) earlier this year, has basically re-created the self-help formula of his prior programming, except with the addition of various products he hawks to unsuspecting viewers as the cure-alls to their various ailments. Feeling depressed? Read his books. Feeling fat? Buy a $200 blender with which to blend fruit and vegetable smoothies.

These days, Montel doesn’t make a salary – only a portion or profits from goods sold on the show. This is pretty sad, considering I know he likes to take his kids on expensive skiing trips. I know this because attendees at Montel Williams Show tapings are afforded the luxury of watching a home video of Montel and his children hitting the slopes – as if we care. If I remember correctly, I spent that particular five minutes wondering if there would be any paternity tests or incestuous guests on the show. (There weren’t).

(Fun Fact: I spent the show itself trying to pretend I didn’t know Aaron - who couldn’t stop laughing, even as a woman with some sort of speech impediment told the audience how she was nearly killed when an 18-wheeler flipped over onto her car). 

Word to the wise, Montel. Sometimes, when your daytime talk show flops, you take off your television shoes and move on, perhaps to a career out of the public eye. Look at Sally Jessy Raphael, whose talk show got me through many a sick day as a child, but has since segued into radio work. Or Jenny Jones, whose Web site doesn’t make it clear what exactly she does these days, except maybe invest in Lisa Frank color pallets. But unless you’re willing to admit that your days of sending teen prostitutes to boot camp are over, you’ll forever be trying to re-start a career that, to be honest, was never that impressive to begin with. And no one wants to be a Rosie O’Donnell.