I had the misfortune of being in a room when “The Masked Singer” was on television recently.
If you haven’t seen it, good for you, but the basic premise is that some C-list celebrity dresses in an elaborate costume, sings a song, and our greatest minds — like anti-vaxxer Jenny McCarthy — try to deduce who is in disguise.
The judges scream ridiculous guesses — “maybe Barack Obama!” — and then the singer is revealed to be La Toya Jackson or someone else who we all thought had died 15 years ago, but evidently didn’t and now needs a paycheck.