The Lawyer and I watched "The Bachelorette" tonight. I've never seen a full episode of "The Bachelor," so I can't compare the gender politics involved, but I was generally disappointed by the lack of drama here -- or more accurately, by the lack of opportunity to get to know the 25 contestants and make my own choice among them. With a few (very few) exceptions, they all seemed like generic Charming Handsome Guys, rather interchangeable. (The exceptions for me were Bob, who gets bravery points for doing the Running Man in front of "the woman of his dreams" and on national television; the Tiffany's-bracelet guy (Russell?), because I liked what he said about wanting to date her -- and yes, the Tiffany's bracelet; and Jamie, but mostly because I like tall blonde basketball players.) Maybe they're selected partly for their blandness. Certainly that keeps things safer and less interesting. Did you notice the number of sports metaphors (cliches) used thus far? One of the un-rosed said "I guess I didn't bring my 'A' game." And judging from the previews, they're going to the mattresses next . . .

And, oh yes, so charming, that guy who didn't get a rose and then said "Well, obviously I should have bought a Tiffany's bracelet." Bastard.

I'm enjoying the imagination and multiple literary references in Summerland (Skidbladnir! Ragged Rock! Buendia!), but I'm just not falling into it the way I was sucked into -- to take the obvious example -- Harry Potter. (Or even better, Kavalier and Clay.) The writing is beautiful, of course, but the whole thing feels slightly too self-conscious to me: "Hey, kids, let's create a new American mythology!" (And said mythology seems to be equal parts Norse, Native American, and baseball myth, though I admit I'm not particularly well-versed in any of those.) Maybe I just don't love baseball enough. In any case, while I'm waiting for that magic "click" of love, I'll keep reading.