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February 2000 Issue, Volume 4

A Toast to "Who Wants To Marry a Multi-Millionaire?"

By Benjy Kantor

From someone he knows:

Rick Rockwell is a good friend of mine. I know you've heard the rumors, but I'm here to defend him wholeheartedly. Rick Rockwell would NEVER EVER marry someone he knew.

My name is Craig Lefferts, and I'm here to say that these allegations are sick. Rick Rockwell is a fine man: an upstanding member of his community, a successful real estate investor, and the furthest thing from your typical multi-millionaire.

I should know, for I myself am a multi-millionaire. As a pitcher for the San Diego Padres in the mid-to-late 1980s, I made my millions with a mediocre but respectable lifetime ERA of 3.43. That's also when I met the woman I would eventually marry. But I didn't get to pick her out of a lineup of willing women. Oh no! A mutual friend introduced us, we went on a couple of awkward initial dates, we became attracted to each other, I wooed her, she wooed me, we wrote letters, we got to know each other, we became friends...

Really it was just a big hassle. That's why Rick is smart. He and Darva had only known each other for a couple of hours, and that's why we, as Rick's friends, are gathered here today for this wondrous wedding reception. It's good to see Ted and Jane could make it all the way from Atlanta.

I regret that Darva's family couldn't be here as well. After all, they weren't really sure that she was going to win, and even if they had, I'm not sure they could afford this $200 a plate dinner at the fabulous Las Vegas Hilton. But don't fret. We'll meet them soon. As part of Darva's wedding prize package her parents and siblings all receive a $25 chip, redeemable at any dealer game in the hotel casino.

But the world of blackjack and slots are over for Darva. She's one of us now, and my only hope is that Darva can eventually come to see us as the same type of atypical multi-millionaires that Rick is, and that we, as multi-millionaires, can look beyond Darva's non-multi-millionaire background and become friends. So I offer this toast: to our rich friend, Rick; to our sponsors: Coca-Cola, Filene's, and Greyhound; to the Fox network, and to Darva Rockwell, nee Konger.

From someone he doesn't know:

All I know is that I work full time in a position where I'm not paid enough to get health insurance or even really cover my rent. I'm in debt for $1,500-and-counting to my parents. And what I would have rather watched was the end of the Family Feud marathon on the PAX channel (did you know it's now hosted by Louie Anderson? - oy!), but I figured there were a lot sponsors putting a lot of good money into "Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire" that I'd be letting them down if I didn't tune in.

10 beauty products, 5 movies, 2 breath fresheners, 5 soft drinks, 20 Fox TV shows, 4 clothing stores, 5 dot-coms, 4 fast food, 3 snack food, 2 furniture, 6 cars, 3 phone services, 1 corrective eye, 1 anti-drug, 2 Greyhound, 2 vacation resorts, 3 cleansing products, 1 shoestore, 1 pregnancy test, and 1 credit card later, I saw a real live wedding on TV.

I've been to weddings before... nice weddings... pretty weddingsŠof people I know who were pledging their love for each other. Granted, that's not the only way to do it. People get married for all kinds of reasons. I'm not sure, however, that this TV show isn't propagating and perpetuating a system of desires based solely on the premise that men should be wealthy and women should desire wealthy men.

Both Darva Konger and Rick Rockwell resigned themselves to being prizes. They felt that being single and lonely for so long (they are each in their forties) was a problem so great that they didn't mind being objectified by the other as long as it meant they got to be married. He got to be the voyeur, watching in the shadows as the women were shown off to him and choosing who he liked with the guarantee that he would not be rejected. Darva won herself a husband and $100,000 worth of wedding gifts (including a $35,000 diamond ring). They wanted it that way. Maybe they're perfect for each other. Let's hope.

If they aren't a good match, I'll feel responsible. It's not necessarily the responsibility of the people who put it on TV for us to watch, or the people who watch it on TV, or sell it to us on TV, or the women who sell themselves on TV to marry a millionaire, or the millionaire who offers money in order to get a woman who will stay with him. Really it's in the same business as Jenny Jones and Jerry Springer and Oprah and Donahue and Lucille Ball and Sid Caesar and the person who invented TV or discovered electricity or built the wheel (or the Wheel of Fortune). New technology allows people to use it badly as well as wisely. So it's not necessarily anybody's fault. Not necessarily.

Here's what's funny. If I hadn't been offered money to write this article, I wouldn't have watched the show. I wouldn't have learned who the multi-millionaire was. I wouldn't have learned that the rich people are the heroes, rescuing poor women through marriage and receiving standing ovations for it. If I hadn't watched, Darva Rockwell would still be Darva Konger, and would probably be just as happy. I wouldn't have found out that she took his last name (and doomed herself to a lifetime of being heckled as the woman who married the guy who people mistake for the Motown artist who sang, "(I Always Feel Like) Somebody's Watching Me").

What matters is that I watched the commercials. After the show I washed my hair five times, fixed myself dinner (Doritos, Coke, and a Certs for dessert), bought an SUV and a station wagon, made some long-distance phone calls, and found out I wasn't pregnant (whew!). Shame on me.

Benjamin Kantor is the Director of Promotions and Publicity and on-air personality at RadioBoston.com, an internet radio station based in Boston. He currently lives with two friends in Somerville, MA. Bats right, throws right.