The Crack-prentice

I am, to paraphrase, Olivia Newton John, hopelessly devoted to The Apprentice, the new reality show about business. Call it the Crack-prentice for how addictive this show is about a slate of men and women who vie for vain Donald Trump’s (yes, that Donald Trump) financial affection.

The Donald is in fine form, doing equal-time promotion of his empire, himself, and both, while sporting a particularly bad variant of the Donald-do. His “hair” has become like thin, blonde spaghetti that has spent too long in a wind tunnel, and it is truly unnerving.

But I digress. The show is excellent, with the production values you would expect from a Mark Burnett creation. It already has me thinking that all MBA programs should immediately stop requiring the GMAT for would-be business-school students and just force applicants to sell lemonade for a day in lower Manhattan instead — it would be far more effective, and it might even make a little money too.