Growing up with my parents in Chalmette, I was raised with a botched understanding of love. Love was conditional and something that was possible only after the dishes were cleaned and the evening’s episode of “Family Matters” was over.

What chance did I, a histrionic boy with a passion for running wild and looking pretty, have in the dark tunnel of love?

None, that is, until last month when I found my guiding light – Flavor Flav.

Through his television show “The Flavor of Love 2,” which some have deemed degrading, tragic, abhorrent and the downfall of Western Civilization, Flav has shown me what I once thought was hopeless … how to love.

The concept of the show is simple: place 20 love-hungry women of questionable taste and intelligence into the mansion of a pioneering rap artist and document their search for the ultimate prize – his heart.

But what makes “Flavor of Love 2” so significant isn’t the Bachelor-Jerry Springer-routine but the inspiring and often unjustly criticized individuals who bare their lives to viewers each week.

Flavor Flav is a role model, someone whom I would rather my children idolize than the eight-foot-tall pigeons on “Sesame Street.” He represents a variation of beauty, one that we full-grown men with the physique of an 11-year-old girl rarely see on television.

He is humble, witty and talented with a gold-toothed smile that dissolves any tension – the kind of guy you could bring home to mom, enjoy KFC with and bring back for a night of lovin’.

Upon meeting the girls, he assigns each a nickname due to his inability to remember their birth names, illustrating that names are inconsequential, that what matters in a relationship is the mutual emotion, not the trivial titles that we all find ourselves casting.

At home, compassion was something practiced by Mother Theresa, but not by my mother. She religiously followed the mantra: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

Saaphyri, the first girl evicted from Flav’s house showed me the foolishness of this rationale.

After physically assaulting fellow cast mate H-Town over a bed, she apologized by offering H-Town some of her “lip chap.” As I’m sure Saaphyri would say, our time here is too short to squander over petty disagreements.

Love is something that should give you butterflies in your stomach. Love is something that makes you feel joy, sadness, passion and every other emotion all at once. Love … is something that causes you to defecate on the floor.

During the first elimination ceremony, the girl Flav named Somethin’ couldn’t contain her excitement at being favored by Flav and defecated on the floor. Many viewed this act as disgusting, nauseating, or my favorite “low-class.”

Somethin’ was just consumed by her love. This is the effect that love should have on people: the power to take away one’s ability to speak, think rationally and control bowel movements.

When dating, we feel compelled to assume roles, too afraid to reveal who we truly are. Another of the girls, Buckwild, disregards this anxiety and shows her true colors, declaring that, “Buck’s in the house!” Although she is constantly under the scrutiny of the other girls for being white and speaking in Ebonics, Buckwild simply claims, “I is who I is, dog.”

She reminds us not only of accepting one’s self, but also of the dangers of television.

“I was raised by television,” she proclaims. “My mama and daddy is probably like Oprah and Jerry Springer. That’s why I’m crazy and black.” She embraces her strengths and her flaws, and exudes confidence.

In our society, we tend to condemn anything that is slightly sexual. We are encouraged to act decent, speak refined, close our legs and conceal hickies.

One of the housemates, Nibblz, recreationally pole dances in her living room and on the Internet. She expresses herself through a unique fashion sense, her passion for both men and women and an unmistakable lisp.

Nibblz possesses a worldly wisdom, evident behind a coy smile as she admits, “My daddy didn’t abuthe me. I’m a happy, well-adjuthted perthon who happenth to enjoy sthex.”

With each proclamation of “Flavor Flav!” Flav communicates the Loyola mission: “Think critically. Act justly.” To the awe of viewers, Flav recently admitted the ever-so controversial New York, last season’s runner-up, back into the mansion.

She now competes for his affections along with the other remaining girls in the house despite numerous temper tantrums, a weave greasier than a Big Mac and assaulting a fellow contestant during the first season.

Flav has forgiven her for her transgressions. “I’m feeling you, New York,” he admits. “I’m really feeling you.”

I must also admit that love truly does conquer all.

I’m going on a date tonight. Only a short while ago I would have been a hot mess. But thanks to an all day “Flavor of Love” marathon, I’m calm, classy and ready to experience that “zha-zha-zhu” after years of deprivation.

Thanks to Flav and his Flavorettes, I know what time it is: Time to love.

Justin Templet can be reached at [email protected].