Does the writers strike have you down?

Well, one show is continuing to broadcast new, live shows without seeming to miss the writers - Dancing with the Stars. I confess that I am a regular watcher and have been from the first season. It sure beats the lame plots and dialogue on some of the other TV shows. I'm continually struck by what a throwback shows like this or American Idol are to the entertainment shows of the sixties or seventies. Dancing or singing joined with the tweak of the competition and the threat of elimination. And when the show ends for this season, ABC is smart enough to cash in on the idea by promising us a spinoff for the new season, Dance Wars. I'll be there for that also. As David Hinckley marvels,

Here the TV industry has spent millions, maybe billions, to stay in the prime-time pop culture game with zany concepts like "Pushing Daisies" and an ever-increasing incidence of hip, trendy, casual sex.

And it turns out that viewers would rather watch ballroom dancing? The same engine that drove the least hip show in TV history, "Lawrence Welk"?

Now it's true that "Dancing With the Stars" isn't just stately fox trots and waltzes. The dances get lively, the costumes are tarted up, and the contestants are encouraged to create dramatic subplots - even beyond Heather Mills' leg - that never would have made it onto "American Bandstand," never mind "Lawrence Welk."

Still, in contrast to prime-time dramas like "Cane" or "Dirty Sexy Money" that seem contractually obligated to provide flesh scenes, "Dancing With the Stars" remains a show parents can watch with the kids in the room.

There's sex appeal, sure, but it's the old-fashioned kind, an implicit aura that can mean something different to every viewer - or nothing at all to those who simply enjoy graceful movement.

Amazing how satisfying a little subtlety can be.

Tonight is the finals with up to 25 million predicted to tune in to see who takes home the championship. Personally, I'll be pulling for Indy 500 winner, Helio Castroneves.