With a summer reality schedule anchored by the mother of a famous “socialite”, I’ve stooped to an all time low for entertainment. My eye was caught by the faux reality and forced teen angst on “Laguna Beach”.

It starts harmlessly enough. On an otherwise boring Monday night, a mini-marathon of season one preempts the premiere. “Nothing else on” you mumble placating yourself about giving this garbage a look. Then without warning, something catches your eye and you’re hooked. Two hours later, you’re jones-ing for more.

Just when I think I can’t get anymore pathetic, “Laguna Beach” comes along and I manage to even amaze myself. Never in my wildest dreams did I see myself ravaging Blockbuster for the first season of Laguna. I almost swallowed my last speck of pride and barked at the cashier but there were too many people within earshot. So, I chickened out and did the next best thing. I hit Wal-Mart and shelled out $35 splintering any sense of self worth. Kicking my crack rock addiction was easier than turning off that DVD. I constantly plead with the wife “just one more episode” as she rolls her eyes.

The show itself poses an interesting dynamic for me and the misses. She grew up good-looking, athletic and popular. This should come as no surprise to anyone who has read me before, but I did not. She was starting varsity basketball and dating the captain of the football team by like the second grade or something. Seriously, she started varsity before she was even in high school! It’s especially nauseating to someone who was cut all four years. While she was walking in the homecoming parade, I was playing Sonic the Hedgehog. She was Treasurer as a SOPHOMORE which wasn’t even possible at my school. I saw that in her yearbook and fired, “How were you an officer!?! It’s all seniors and you?”

Without even looking up from her book, “’Cause I was cool.” GRRRRRR.

So let’s just say I have very little frame of reference for what I’m seeing at Laguna and I’m easily frustrated. I’m constantly looking to her for help in understanding why they’re acting the way they do. For instance, Steve and Kristin’s reunion in the premiere over Christmas break was the break out moment of the series. Not quite an Ashley Simpson ho-down, but close.

The conversation dragged. Steve made a laughable attempt to give attitude. Finally, it grinded to a halt. It was a train wreck of mythical proportions. I was floored. I just didn’t get it. Why don’t they just talk about their semesters, their siblings? It rang on like that for over sixty seconds. What’s amazing is the scene was never cut. Usually, awkward moments are chopped up and tainted. In this instance, the camera ran non-stop while they kicked rocks and said nothing. I took it out on the misses.

“Why do they talk to their ex’s like that?” I snapped almost bitterly. She tried to explain it but I was unmovable. If you’ve never been there, it’s impossible to understand I guess.

I think that’s why the show resonates so well. It forces me to miss a past that I never lived. It’s been there, done that for my wife so her viewing is of sheer amusement, a nice stroll down memory lane. For me, it’s morbid curiosity. Sometimes I watch Laguna and get sad that I never had those experiences. Other times, I’m pumped I never dealt with those petty issues.

And high school wasn’t all bad. I had a few good months my senior year, mainly because my folks bought a shore house leaving me home alone to be exploited for wild parties by the popular kids. (Mom, you can disregard that last line. It’s just exaggeration for the good of the article. And, yeah, ah…that vomit you found in the front yard senior year, ah, yeah, that really was the neighbor’s dog. I think he had Montezuma’s Revenge or something.)

Some feel Laguna is a forced carbon copy of 90210 with the boring scripts and annoying dialect that’s almost insulting. I disagree. I think it’s got the vibe of ‘The Wonder Years’. The musical scores and the mishaps of young love all promote some strain of nostalgia. I was exactly Kevin Arnold’s age back then yet I would be drug into these bouts of longing about an era that I never experienced.

It’s hard to believe that these spoiled, manipulative, selfish brats on Laguna can elicit some semblance of reminiscence, but somehow, they manage. I can’t stand them but I envy them. They’re pictures of perfection yet they’re fraught with flaws. I hate to use the word complex because they’re not. An ant couldn’t drown in a puddle as shallow as these kids. But there’s something strangely practical about them that pulls you in.

In a few weeks, I’ll check back at the halfway point and break down each character. As for the first quarter grade, I give it an A-. I want to hate it, but I just can’t.