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The votes have been tallied and America has spoken, “see ya, Josie Maran, Mark Cuban, you're next.” At least that’s how the American public sounds in my head.

Dancing With The Stars, that ratings juggernaut from ABC that premiered the summer of 2005 and is inexplicably still popular, is back in full swing (pun intended) tonight with it’s first elimination results episode.

I haven’t jumped on the DWTS bandwagon and I’m sure I’m not alone. Still, I’m willing to bet that unless you’ve been hiding under a rock for the past few years you know the premise.

Just in case you have been in a time capsule though, here’s the skinny; you pair a Z-list celebrity with a professional dancer, toss in a couple of judges, add a healthy dose of cheese, give your viewers the ability to vote someone off, and – presto, you have a hit!

I’m just not a fan of celebrity, and I use that term loosely, reality television. Call me old-fashioned, but I like my stars distant and aloof, imagining they’re better than me. Can you picture Angelina Jolie belching while the cameras are rolling, a la Jessica Simpson, then laughing about it? Go on try, I’ll give you a second…

Can’t do it, can you? That’s ok neither could I, nor would I want to.

I don’t begrudge ABC their hit, I’m sure it can’t suck too badly or it wouldn’t generate bigger ratings each episode, thereby generating more advertising revenue. It’s just not my cup of tea.

Nope, I like my reality TV fix to come from your average narcissist, like the cast of America’s Next Top Model or Baldwin Hills, that way I can gloat, secure in the knowledge that the world is full of people dumber than me who are to make fools of themselves for a chance at the big time.

Still, you gotta love that nifty trophy.