For those who don’t follow Abovethelaw.com (which is a generally good idea),
MTV TV representatives floated the idea of having a reality show at Cardozo.
I have never supported anything more than this in my entire life.
But it didn’t happen. However, before that news got out, I wrote a little column about it. Here it is
Put me, Evan, in the Cardozo reality show
Over the past week, rumors have swirled at 55 5th avenue that Cardozo has been considering an offer to have a reality TV show filmed at our law school.
I am ashamed and shocked. How can Cardozo even consider a reality show without immediately contacting me to be a character?
Supposedly the plan is for the show to cover law students as they work through the year and offer legal advice to real clients, in real cases. Boring.
America doesn’t want to see well thought out, logical legal advice. It wants to see 1L’s crying in the fetal position. It wants to see best friends undermining each other for Big Law internships. It wants to see drama, entertainment, and breasts. And I’ve got two out of three.
In contrast to the inevitable characters of hot genius undergrad chick struck down by the first year of law school, or the newlywed trying to balance home and school, I’ll be the fun-loving cut-up with all the best B-stories who gets a spinoff in the end. Think Joey in Friends or G. Gordon Liddy in The Nixon Administration. And believe me, I’ve got the goods.
There are no limits to all the wacky adventures this Texas Jewboy transplant will get in. Think cutting intermittently from a serious plot to a B-story of me slipping and falling over the period of several hours as I try, desperately, to make my way to Cardozo during the first freeze. Apparently cowboy boots don’t make good snow boots.
Weeow! (That’ll be my catch-phrase, by the way).
Or a hilarious game of chicken between me and a professor as I try to bluff my way through a cold call that I’m obviously unprepared for.
“So let me get this straight, Mr. Mintz. You’re saying that Miller v. California held that a beer could have both great taste and be less filling.”
Or an episode where I have a breakdown and yell at all the people who take the elevator to just go to the second floor, but then — ironic twist! — I hurt my knee and have to take the elevator all the time.
“Oh, so its the guy who thinks he’s too good to take the elevator one floor!”
I can already taste the Cable Ace Award.
But those are just a few ideas. I’ll do whatever, and whomever, it takes to get on the show. Sleep through my final for the season finale? I’m there. Bone a professor for sweeps week? Oh you know I’m there. Hold a pork roast in the 3rd floor lounge during the Fast of Esther? I’ll have people saying Evan instead of Haman if its what we need for ratings.
Lets be honest. With my GPA and extracurriculars, I’ve got no hope for a high paying job, or even a low paying respectable job. So if I want my millions, I’ve got to make it American way: sell my soul to Hollywood. I foresee a career MTV movie award gigs, VH1 commentary, and a Playboy shoot that, no matter what, will still be better than Heidi Montag’s.
So choose me, Cardozo. You already picked me for admission and you didn’t regret that. Right?