Gee, I don’t know what to say. I feel empty. I feel puzzled. Maybe I’m even feeling a teensie bit used, and offended (I know after watching a reality show like “Cheaters” that’s sort of, like, impossible). Unclean, even; upended. How do you begin to write about a massive train crash? It’s sort of like what Woody Allen said at one time: somebody might as well throw a blanket over me. Man, two months of Monday nights in the toilet. And I know it’s a BIG secret and all, but here am I some schlepp freelance writer and I could have flagged down producer Fleiss and his cohorts and told them that Jen Schefft was a fruitcake waiting to implode. She doesn’t like Andrew Firestone? Of course not! He’s just handsome, intelligent, honorable, humorous, wealthy, ambitious, has wonderful parents, wants to be married and raise a family. Oh, I see, let me get this straight... he’s not perfect. Excuse me... let’s try calling Zeus next time, Jen. Or Morpheus. Or, preferably, Hannibal Lecter. But then he probably enjoys the wrong brand of yogurt, or something.

By David W. Taylor
Reality Reel Media
02.02.05

I have to say it, some of us were convinced that Jen Schefft was a lunatic for parting company with Andrew Firestone (that is one lucky dude!), and after two months of following Jen’s brutally dreary and somnambulant galumph among twenty-five wretched saps we have come to the realization that Jen is, well, a lunatic. Yeah, that was a fun ride, wasn’t it? Yet what is utterly vexing was that God, in all His Merciful Forgiveness, sent out, Verily, a Thunderbolt and brought John Paul to our troubled spinster. So even though Jen jettisoned one nearly perfect man into the darkness, here was brought before her another perfect, though human, man—despite her many transgressions. Not only is John Paul handsome, intelligent, honorable, humorous, wealthy, ambitious, has wonderful parents, wants to be married and raise a family... but he’s also years younger! So when Jen begins to caramelize and look like Nick Nolte in about ten years, JP will still look like the young dandy he does now. Maybe better. And she dumped him too! Let me see, how did she put it? “You’re incredible, but... something is just not there.” What? Like insanity?

Well, what can one say about the two hours of tape before the mind-boggling “After The Final Rose?” It was all a meaningless clutter of stuff and nonsense, as it turned out, that seems hardly worth talking about. Yet, naturally, John Paul came off splendidly from beginning to end. His easy, relaxed, thoughtful manner and devotion and Love for Jen impressed everyone from her parents to her two friends, Abby and Michelle. His kindhearted attention displayed itself throughout the program as he brought Jen a gift of earrings on their initial meeting in Cleveland, Ohio, as well as a crystal vase for her parents. In stark comparison Jerry brings no gift for Jen and in what seems a secondary afterthought on the way to visit with her parents, Jerry asks Jen if she minds stopping by a flower shop so he can pick something up. That is sort of how it all goes. JP is grounded and straightforward, Jerry vaporous and back-flipping. Similarly, John Paul asks Jen’s father, Dave, for his blessing on his planned marriage proposal; Jerry launches into one of his billowy philosophical treatises at the Schefft dinner table about the right moment for commitment. The family lowdown is that JP is “rational,” Jerry is “irrational.” Jen thinks JP is “predictable.” She thinks Jerry is a “free spirit.” It’s a clear choice between a solid husband (that is, if you want to get married?) and a rave buddy. But, to Jen, this overt dichotomy leads to “feeling confused.” I suppose if these guys were more alike it would have been easier?