Well, it's time to cast those images upon the rocks, because thanks to "Hit Me Baby One More Time," which premiered just in time to pick up where "Kevin and Britney: Chaotic" left off as the current Worst Show on Television, we know that Bad Hair Guy's name is Mike Score, he was actually a hairdresser when he started the band, and not only does he have a whole new, terrible variety of bad hair, but his voice is shot, he's 30 pounds overweight, and he lives in Florida with a 50-something woman who still wears short-shorts and has hair down to her butt.

Here's how we know this: "Hit Me Baby One More Time" is like an "American Idol" for fat has-beens. Thus, instead of watching dewy-faced young people sing horrible covers of oldies you hoped you'd never hear again, you can see crusty old folks perform their own horrible oldies in their failing, tone-deaf voices. And as if that weren't depressing enough, we're also treated to biopics detailing just how empty and hopeless their lives have become. After that -- and this is really the worst part -- the has-beens come back onstage and perform again, covering a current hit of their choice!

And look, you really haven't lived until you've seen Tiffany (whose one hit was a cover anyway), so pear-shaped in her terrible outfit that you'd think she was pregnant, trying and failing miserably at a reasonable cover of -- get this -- Kelly Clarkson's "Breakaway." That's right, yesterday's stars, overweight and wrinkled and unwieldy, reduced to warbling the hit songs of today's manufactured stars like Clarkson.

Not that Clarkson is all that bad. Sure, she has the freakishly short little wings of a dodo bird, but compared to a girl who took her Mr. Microphone to the mall and got famous for it, she looks like an absolute superstar.

And I haven't even mentioned our host, Vernon Kay, a confusing jumble of odd pronunciations, faux-gushing proclamations and deeply irritating tics. He flails his arms like a marionette, blinks down at the camera like a peculiar child, and blurts hysterical remarks through a mouthful of oversize teeth. Was this kid encouraged way too much by fawning parents, or was he chained to the toilet? It's so hard to tell!

Building the wall, part deux
But why wonder about such abstract matters, when we can see a confusing mix of fawning and emotional abuse up close and in person, while the cameras roll? You can't please everyone, but you can please a hell of a lot of people by exposing some of the scariest monster-parents in the world.

Remember "Showbiz Moms and Dads," the cult hit that whipped a nation of rubberneckers into a self-righteous frenzy and reopened those old wounds caused by the recurring appearance of JonBenet Ramsey's parents on "Larry King Live"? Well, the latest and greatest offering from World of Wonder, the production company that brought you "Inside Deep Throat," "The Eyes of Tammy Faye," "Gay Republicans," "Party Monster" and about a million other whimsical peeks at American pop cultural oddities, is "Sports Kids Moms and Dads" (Wednesdays at 10 p.m. on Bravo).

This is a show that proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you can't please everyone, and sometimes trying to do so will only buy you a world of pain. You run stairs, you endure tackles, you do suicides, you practice your double axels until your legs are weak, you rush from ballet to cheerleading practice and, in the end, you come in second, your mom criticizes you, and she sells your horse to some stranger.

You see, chickens, there are some parents who won't rest until their children are as obsessive, anal-retentive, stressed-out and self-hating as they are. Sharon drags her 8-year-old daughter, Sarah, from dance practice to dance events to cheerleading competitions, so many that it's tough to keep track of them all, and then screams at Sarah for not bubbling over with enthusiasm when she's half asleep. Bryce, a 16-year-old figure skater, practices his jumps over and over, but seems to get nothing but criticism and abuse from his sourpuss mom, Kim. Not surprisingly, Bryce says that it makes him nervous when his mom watches him skate. When his grandmother comes to watch him, though, he loosens up and enjoys himself. Bryce's grandmother, you see, is an actual human being, prone to clapping and saying things like "Good job!" when he does something well.

And then there's Trenton, an 8-year-old who needs a chiropractor to handle the fact that he gets tackled countless times a week as an aspiring wide receiver. And don't forget Karli, a 17-year-old equestrian whose mother shows up an hour late to pick her up from the train station, then acts defensive about it instead of apologizing sincerely. She puts Karli's horse (see also: her best friend) up for sale, then barely remembers doing it.

Yes, Karli's mother is going through a divorce, Trenton's father believes seven days of practice and training are necessary for Trenton to go pro 13 years from now, and Bryce's mother would probably be surly and critical whether Bryce was a figure skater or a lazy jerk, so he might as well get in shape and focus his energy on something. And I'm sure all of these parents think that they're selflessly giving their kids opportunities that they didn't have as kids. You know, like the opportunity to have a nervous breakdown before age 11.

Watching the spirits of these sad little puppies get smashed to smithereens makes me hope that I'll have a lazy, unfocused, wisecracking, finger-painting ne'er-do-well under my roof some day.

Recent Stories