So I'm sitting at home, flipping channels, and I come across "Franki Valli & The Four Seasons: Tribute on Ice" on NBC. Mr. Valli is in surprisingly good voice (if he's actually singing live) and is running through his many hits with his four backup singers. So really, it's Frankie Valli and the Five Seasons, which doesn't make any sense.

But that's okay. I mean what's one extra season between friends? I like Valli's classic tunes, but it was the Tribute on Ice portion of the show that grabbed me and put me in a headlock. For a few minutes, the ice rink if front of the stage was empty, then it started to fill up with a bunch of past Olympic champs and skating legends, doing incredibly lame choreography that kind of had something to do with the song, but not really. For example, when Frankie launched into "Grease," all the male skaters came out in matching red 50s-style bowling shirts making Elvis-faces. You know, for Grease. Which was set in the 50s, or early 60s, or whenever guys wore red bowling shirts while figure skating.

I'm a longtime fan of these shows… in the same way you're a fan of 10-car pileups. And I'm not sure why. I don't particularly like figure skating, except when I watch the Olympics and root for people to fall. (Like you don't? Come on, don't lie.) But there's something about these non-competitive skating exhibitions that mesmerizes me. Maybe it's because there's nothing on the line; no medals, no national pride, no excitement. Just cheeseball choreography and corny costumes that try to distract you from noticing that there are really only 4 or 5 skating moves. No matter what the "theme" of the show is, and whether Michelle Kwan is dressed as a detective or Brian Boitano is in a sailor suit, you know they're all going to do the exact same jumps and spins they always do. In pretty much the same order. And all with those forced smiles that tell the beanie-baby-collecting audience that they're "really having fun out there."

FV&TFS:ATOI reminded me how much I missed the undisputed king of ice-based music specials, Elvis Stojko. With his frizzy mullet and manly ways, Stojko burned up the ice with his passion and commitment to the sport. Ever the showman, he'd always find a way to skate to the edge of the rink and kiss a lucky female fan, his swooning eye roll telling the whole arena how much he loved the ladies. Then he'd skate off and do identical moves as everyone else, only machoer.

I hope there's another Tribute On Ice soon, so I can see some flesh-colored skate covers and beehive wigs saluting the hits of Motown. And maybe some gold lamé motorcycle jackets for the fellas.