Daytime talk show host Wendy Williams hosted the “A-List: New York” reunion special on Logo on Monday, Dec. 6. It’s hard to say what this program was really about. Was it a farewell? Was it a teaser for the next season?

Several discrete inquiries before the special got me nowhere. The folks at Logo were polite but not at all forthcoming, so understandably I assumed the reunion was the end of the road for the “A-List” boys, and that assumption rang true throughout the course of the program.

The degree of sparks and tension from cast mates left the impression that this was the last hurrah. This was the last chance for Austin to get in his digs, for Reichen Lehmkuhl to defend his relationship with Rodiney and to vocalize his wish, one last time: “Can’t everybody would just get along?”

Toward the end, though, Williams seemed to indicate that “A-List: New York” had been renewed. But a recent conversation with Reichen went something like this:

Q: “Congratulations on the renewal.”

A: “Oh, the renewal of …?”

Q: “’A-List.’ Isn’t ‘A-List’ being renewed?”

A: “I didn’t know it was renewed.”

Q: “That was the impression.”

A: “Well, we keep asking and they tell us there’s nothing guaranteed. We won’t know anything till mid-January.”

That explains a lot. Just a few minutes into the interview, it was apparent that this wasn’t the same Richen Lehmkuhl that I spoke with on Sept. 9. This Reichen sounded tired. Not the tired of, “he’s so tired,” but genuinely tired, as in defeated and emotionally wrung-out.
Understandable. Nobody like’s uncertainty.

Frankly, it would be a surprise if “A-List” weren’t renewed. Love it or hate it, “A-List: New York” is groundbreaking. An impromptu survey one evening at Top of the Park in San Diego confirmed what I’d suspected all along: There are a lot of closet viewers. “A-List” has a fan base of guilty-pleasure lovers.

More than once I heard, “Ah, yeah, I’ve seen it a few times,” followed by minutia and vivid details of the previous episode.
Yeah sure: “a few times.”

It’s easy to make fun of reality programming and granted, there’s a lot to make fun of. People aren’t themselves in front of a camera. It’s like a house of mirrors: Where’s the real image? The camera records the cast -- and the cast pretends the camera isn’t there. They’re acting, so candid behavior isn’t the real outcome of any reality program. But, there are glimpses of the real thing.

Reichen is dealing with the issues of our generation. He’s a realist or he’s a whore, depending on whom you ask. He wrestles with his libido and questions the wisdom of patterning gay marriage on a heterosexual model, and he has a point.

Fidelity and monogamy are huge issues, especially for gay male couples and especially if those couples are under the age of 30. Face it, most gay men seem to be horn dogs and Reichen brings a pithy, largely unexplored sociological issue to the table, and he does so in bed with his boyfriend Rodiney Santiago. Rodiney, too, has a perspective on the issue and obviously a vested interest.

Understandably, Rodiney doesn’t embrace the reality of Reichen’s wandering eye, though apparently wandering eye syndrome has beset Rodiney as well. Then, throw in another reality: Reichen and Rodiney are stunningly handsome, and they live in Manhattan. They’re like prime filet at the buffet, so no doubt opportunities to play around are bountiful.

This is hard enough stuff in private relationships. Imagine the discussion in front of a camera. No wonder Reichen sounds tired!

During the interview, Reichen cleared up what really happened with the porn star (for those of you who have seen the program, “once or twice”) and then went on to discuss issues of a far less titillating nature, like the state of suspended animation that’s befallen the core of his political passion, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” But more on that later …

Kurt Niece is a freelance journalist from Tuscon, Ariz., and author of "The Breath of Rapture." He writes about television for Echo Magazine in Phoenix and SDGLN. He is also an artist who sells his work at www.knjewelry.com.