Annoying Celebrities Amplified by Megalomaniacal Interviewers, and Other News...
I'm off work today and tomorrow so I can get some errands done and get the oil change in my car, etc. (today) and go down and see my family (tomorrow). We had a mini-conference at work yesterday afternoon, followed by an evening cocktail reception, then I changed clothes, jumped in a cab and went to see Dick O'Day's Big Lovely Bingo at the Annoyance Theatre, where Mr. O'Day was assisted by my Joans bandmate, the lovely Carol Ann (Ed Jones). Our head Joan, Davy (David Cerda), was also there, along with his husband Chris and Marna, The Last Lady Of Song, who performed a number for us during a break in the game. It was a fun time!
So this morning, I was at the laundromat (yes, my life is still that glamourous) putting my stuff in the dryer, when I happen to glimpse the TV screen out of the corner of my eye. It's tuned to "Oprah," and she's interviewing lovely, well-preserved simpleton Faith Hill. Sadly, I couldn't reach the set to change the channel, and the lady who runs the place was busy in the back, so I just tried (in vain) to tune it out.
It's amazing to me how often I wish, hope and pray to be proven wrong. Or that some absolute truths can change. But alas, Oprah's just as fucking annoying as ever. And she made Faith Hill seem even more so. "I have my bad days just like everyone else, *hee hee hee,*" she simpers. "Some mornings I get up and just hate my hair! *Hee hee hee*." Well, you're not alone, Faith. I hate your hair, too. Jennifer Lopez tried that whole Dolly Madison look years ago, and it didn't work for her, either.
She goes on to say, "Maybe it's from being raised in Mississippi, but if I get up in the morning, and I'm healthy and my family's healthy, then I realize how fortunate I am and nothing else bothers me." Oh, you're right, Faith: it's just because you're from Mississippi. Nobody from any other state knows how to be grateful.
Then Oprah profiled an aspiring struggling songwriter named (*oh shit I forget*), who had always wanted to be a singer. Somehow, the Oprah Fairies sprinkled their dust on just this one chosen poster girl (isn't that always the way?), and hooked her up with Faith Hill. The girl came on the show with her guitar and sang some song about a friend of hers named Ruby (or something) who overcame racism (or something) and pretty soon Oprah was having one of those phony-verklempt moments of hers: "OK, you can stop now. I'm crying!" (I always wonder how she manages to cry just on cue. Does she have a wrangler nearby slamming her off-camera hand in a door or something? Where can I apply for that job?!)
After the commercial break (and I never thought I'd be so glad to see a commercial break), the girl and Faith got together and sang a song the girl wrote about believing in Peter Pan (it wasn't clear if she was referring to the character or the peanut butter) and miracles. I realize I'm a terrible cynic, but even if I was still a fresh-eyed kid (OK, if I ever had been), this still would have sounded like run-of-the-mill, lowest-common-denominator, crowd-pleasing fluff. And it certainly pleased the Oprah crowd, comprised as it usually is of celebrity-gawking, middle-aged housewives whose hot flashes threaten to set the whole studio on fire. (Yes, I'm awful. No, I'm NOT sorry.) Or perhaps they were all just hoping to get a free Pontiac.
Of all the days for me to forget my CD walkman. I was grateful for a whole new reason this time when my laundry was done...
***********************************
Tonight, I'm going to TimeLine Theatre to see "Widowers' Houses," then tomorrow morning I drive to Peoria to see my family. I talked to mom this morning, and she had her first chemo yesterday morning. She's taking anti-nausea medicine and they gave her steroids, and she said this morning she feels "like she has a pile of bricks on her head," and has that "heavy" feeling, but she feels OK. She might feel a little crummy tomorrow, though, so I'm really glad I'm going to be there for a few days.
Perhaps I don't deserve nice things to happen in my life (since I don't love Faith Hill or Oprah), but I'm really glad that she's having this now. It might do the trick, and at least she's getting it over with.
Have a good weekend!
So this morning, I was at the laundromat (yes, my life is still that glamourous) putting my stuff in the dryer, when I happen to glimpse the TV screen out of the corner of my eye. It's tuned to "Oprah," and she's interviewing lovely, well-preserved simpleton Faith Hill. Sadly, I couldn't reach the set to change the channel, and the lady who runs the place was busy in the back, so I just tried (in vain) to tune it out.
It's amazing to me how often I wish, hope and pray to be proven wrong. Or that some absolute truths can change. But alas, Oprah's just as fucking annoying as ever. And she made Faith Hill seem even more so. "I have my bad days just like everyone else, *hee hee hee,*" she simpers. "Some mornings I get up and just hate my hair! *Hee hee hee*." Well, you're not alone, Faith. I hate your hair, too. Jennifer Lopez tried that whole Dolly Madison look years ago, and it didn't work for her, either.
She goes on to say, "Maybe it's from being raised in Mississippi, but if I get up in the morning, and I'm healthy and my family's healthy, then I realize how fortunate I am and nothing else bothers me." Oh, you're right, Faith: it's just because you're from Mississippi. Nobody from any other state knows how to be grateful.
Then Oprah profiled an aspiring struggling songwriter named (*oh shit I forget*), who had always wanted to be a singer. Somehow, the Oprah Fairies sprinkled their dust on just this one chosen poster girl (isn't that always the way?), and hooked her up with Faith Hill. The girl came on the show with her guitar and sang some song about a friend of hers named Ruby (or something) who overcame racism (or something) and pretty soon Oprah was having one of those phony-verklempt moments of hers: "OK, you can stop now. I'm crying!" (I always wonder how she manages to cry just on cue. Does she have a wrangler nearby slamming her off-camera hand in a door or something? Where can I apply for that job?!)
After the commercial break (and I never thought I'd be so glad to see a commercial break), the girl and Faith got together and sang a song the girl wrote about believing in Peter Pan (it wasn't clear if she was referring to the character or the peanut butter) and miracles. I realize I'm a terrible cynic, but even if I was still a fresh-eyed kid (OK, if I ever had been), this still would have sounded like run-of-the-mill, lowest-common-denominator, crowd-pleasing fluff. And it certainly pleased the Oprah crowd, comprised as it usually is of celebrity-gawking, middle-aged housewives whose hot flashes threaten to set the whole studio on fire. (Yes, I'm awful. No, I'm NOT sorry.) Or perhaps they were all just hoping to get a free Pontiac.
Of all the days for me to forget my CD walkman. I was grateful for a whole new reason this time when my laundry was done...
***********************************
Tonight, I'm going to TimeLine Theatre to see "Widowers' Houses," then tomorrow morning I drive to Peoria to see my family. I talked to mom this morning, and she had her first chemo yesterday morning. She's taking anti-nausea medicine and they gave her steroids, and she said this morning she feels "like she has a pile of bricks on her head," and has that "heavy" feeling, but she feels OK. She might feel a little crummy tomorrow, though, so I'm really glad I'm going to be there for a few days.
Perhaps I don't deserve nice things to happen in my life (since I don't love Faith Hill or Oprah), but I'm really glad that she's having this now. It might do the trick, and at least she's getting it over with.
Have a good weekend!
posted by Aaron at 11:34 AM
5 Comments:
that has got to be the best description of an OPRAH show, ever. still laughing.
Great Blogpost Aaron! When I read the title I thought it was going to be about your favorite Girl, Paris Hilton. I tried to watch her on Larry King but it made me sick. Larry, "what did you do in jail?" Paris, "I ate Bologna sandwiches and read the Bible." Larry, "really? what is your favorite Bible Verse?" Paris, "well, uh...uh...I don't have one." No shit Beeatch! You've never even seen a Bible. Damn those cruel fuckers making poor Paris eat Bologna sandwiches! Poor thing lost 2 pounds while she was incarcerated.
Oprah is opening a store to sell Oprah Crap to tourists. I'm sure you'll want to be there at the grand opening it is across from her studio. Soon she'll own the whole town and you'll have to pay her rent.
Kory: Thanks for reading! I was much, much meaner in the MySpace version...:-)
Ed: Since I own the lil' slice of Chicago I live in (the ONLY perk about this place), if Oprah wanted to buy all of Chicago, then she'd also need to buy my home from me. At an inflated price. And you'd better believe I'd jack this mother sky-high.
Your mom, you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. Much love.
Thanks Stephen! She's not doing too bad, actually...I'll post updates tomorrow...
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