Note to P. Diddy: Stop trying to make super groups

He’s business-savvy. I’ll give him that. He’s been able to finagle his way back into the MTV… He’s business-savvy. I’ll give him that. He’s been able to finagle his way back into the MTV lineup with the third season of “Making the Band” after making Da Band earned high ratings. All the same, he says he runs the city. Yes, I’m talking about none other than hip-hop mogul and fashion trendster, Sean “Puffy” Combs. Mr. “Get Me My Cheesecake” P. Diddy himself is back — as if he ever really left — with “Making the Band 3″… just the ladies now.

Even after cutting off my cable because I want my education more than I want my MTV (yeah, right!), I faced the blistering Pittsburgh cold to watch the premiere episode at my friend’s house where cable comes on, and a bachelor’s degree hangs on the wall.

I don’t doubt that Puffy can make this happen. Not that I want to bring up the nightmare that was Bad Boy’s first all-girl project, Dream, but in the back of my mind, I really wanted Puffy to redeem himself. Da Band really wasn’t that great of a hip-hop group, much less an actual band. There was almost nothing more heart-wrenching for me than to watch a group of dreamers get an opportunity of a lifetime only to defer their own possibility by being lazy and unfocused. It was like watching myself, and if I wanted to see myself I’d look in the mirror, not to the television.

I stupidly got my hopes up for the show, secretly singing “Ladies Night” in my mind as the opening credits started. And almost as quickly as my expectations rose, they came crashing right back down. I had to remember that Puffy wasn’t looking for an all-female hip-hop group; he wants an “international all-female group.” Perhaps he should have had an international search because as usual, Puffy wasn’t happy with what he saw. Nor was I, my friends. Sadly, nor was I.

The commercials should have prepared me for the inevitable. Did you not see the “chick” commercials promoting the premiere? Ridiculous, even down to the chicks’ coloring. This show was not going to be about the ins and outs of making it in the music industry. For the most part, I think the general public already knows how that is: intricate, extremely difficult and requiring an immense amount of talent and drive. Luck isn’t even a factor in most of the success stories; it’s a matter of taking advantage of each and every opportunity.

And so we have these wannabe-superstar females from around the country with an opportunity. A third of them can’t execute a simple box step. One wants to be a solo artist. Two others can’t harmonize, and they are all nervous. I guess we’ll just have to watch the entire season to see if it happens for any of them. Only in the future will we know if the group formed will even stay together. At least they have the legacies left by O-Town and Da Band for inspiration. Right?

Puffy has an opportunity too. And I doubt the graduate of an all-boys high school in the Bronx doesn’t know “ad astra per aspera” — a hard road leads to the heavens. He and his magical team of talent-spotting geniuses are going to work these women out! But, I’ll be the first to tell you that hard work doesn’t always get the attention, pay the bills or earn you a spot on the team. The road to the season finale of “Making the Band 3” is going to be paved with drama, and drama of the best kind: high voltage, female-on-female drama.

One too many group projects in the classrooms of my own life prepared me for the personality conflicts that would develop because of the particulars of group dynamics: people are just not going to get along. But I really wanted to hear some kick-ass vocal styling. I wanted to see innovative and precise dance moves. I knew I couldn’t avoid the petite bodies and cute faces; it is a business, after all.

But what is it about the seemingly petty, passive-aggressive, spiteful, back-stabbing drama that women engage in? I sat there watching a rather unimpressive group of females struggle with choreography and stumble over melodies and said to myself, “Self, this is a hot mess of a representation of the female species.”

I was quickly reminded of the “Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Battle of the Sexes.” I wanted to grab the TV set and scream at the inhabitants of the pink villa. They weren’t winning the game, and they didn’t even lose gracefully.

I did all I could to tell myself it’s just TV. It’s not art imitating life because women can’t be that caddy, can they? And if we wanted to see how well or poorly people work together, most of us could take a look into our own lives.

I want Puffy to give me an escape from what I can see while I’m walking around campus, on the sales floor of my job or even within the walls of my church. When I turn on the tube, I want to be entertained.

There must be talented females who can form a functional performance group, and I want to see them function and perform well. I’m tired of reality TV bringing real people’s real hang-ups into my life.

And, yes, I could just switch the channel or turn it off. But let’s face it: I’m hooked. I want to see who gets cut, who gets better and who has the best comeback in the midst of an argument. What I’m not hooked on is the bitchy, overly emotional representation of women, especially on reality TV.

Maria Nicole Smith also watches “Celebrity Fit Club” on VH1 and agrees with Judge Mablean: “America doesn’t like a strong black woman.” E-mail the strongest black woman on The Pitt News staff at marianicoles@aol.com. Happy Women’s Herstory month to all!