Dancing Machine

It occurred to me this week that Dancing With the Stars works on so many levels. You have beautiful women dancing in fancy dresses and handsome dudes in sharp suits—sewing up your female audience, ohhhh from about ages 11 to 83. Then you have your aforementioned beautiful women, mostly in skimpy dresses, sometimes less. That'll bring in the fellas. And lastly you have annoying judges who appeal to the TV geeks eager for yet more reality television drama.

But in a wider sense, this simple dance contest is a sports spectacle, filled with scintillating moves, amazing camera angles, outspoken personalities and importantly, a final score. And just in case you still weren't hooked to the premise, the producers threw in a genuine sports superstar in Emmitt Smith.

Hell, last week they even had a couple of Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders there for the twinkle-toeing big guy! What more could you ask for? Only hot dogs for the audience and some irritating play-by-play from Chris Berman would complete the picture.