Notes On A Scandal

I've been trying to figure out what it is that makes MTV's relatively new reality series, The Buried Life, so appealing to me. The concept definitely speaks to me, not necessarily because it's original, but because it's just plain good. Four 20-something-year-old guys – Ben, Dave, Duncan, and Jonnie – go around the country and the world so that they may slowly check off the 100 things they want to do most in life, all the while helping strangers they meet do the same. It's funny, as are most shows I end up loving with the exception of Lost, which does leave me laughing on occasion, but in that cynical way that usually accommodates lots of profanity and the question, "What on earth just happened?"

I might like The Buried Life because it, in many ways, resonates with that part of me that would love to live wildly, form a rock band, and wake up in a bunk bed on a tour bus every morning. It could also be that I am vicariously living through the show. In fact, I know that's a part of it. I haven't composed my own bucket list yet, but I know that mine will have at least a few in common with The Buried Life list. I want to throw the party of the century. I want to sky dive. I want to dance with Ellen Degeneres.

When I think about the life that Ben, Dave, Duncan, and Jonnie live – seeing the world, connecting with people on the street, causing mayhem – I feel something that isn't just envy. It's envy of the experiences they get to have, mixed with confusion at how any four people could be so daring as to drop out of college to, quite simply, live. As they tell it, they were feeling misguided, doing odd jobs, living their college years without any real sense of purpose. But do any of us really have a sense of purpose? Are any of us really changing the world?

It would seem that not just anyone could live the life these four boys lead. They seem to know that, too. Yes, they do like to remind us as often as possible that they are not receiving much help from MTV. When they agreed to help a rising Julliard freshman fly to see her mother's grave for the first time, the four guys waited tables for a full day and night shift at a restaurant to raise the cash. But all four boys accompany her on that emotional trip, and we never learn how their plane tickets were financed.

This part is central – this issue of continuing to seem like four ordinary guys, all the while evolving MTV star status. Apparently, though, The Buried Life cast was offered the gig by MTV a few years back, and they declined out of fear of losing creative control of the project. Up until very recently, they were living off sponsors they had quite simply found in the phone book. "That's one of the cornerstones of The Buried Life," said Ben in an interview. "You never really realize how many people are willing to help until you put it out there." In other words, yes, cash does flow in from outside sources, but it comes because they simply picked up the phone and asked for help, something any of us could do.

I think that The Buried Life sparks my interest because, unlike most shows – especially ones on MTV – it seems almost entirely real. These boys keep their self-hired film crew, edit the film, choose the music, and executive-produce the show. They are not made out to be heroes, and sometimes they utterly fail in their attempts. That's not really the point, though. They take the leap, and hope that others will do the same. They make sure to ask you the same question they've been asking themselves: "What do you want to do before you die?"