My Friend Oprah

Last week I sent Ben over to borrow some eggs from our neighbor. Later that day he really wanted to go over and play with her boys and instead of saying as much, went over to their house and asked to borrow more eggs. Unbeknownst to me. So their 6 year old shows up in my kitchen holding a carton of eggs, with their three remaining eggs. He says, "You can just have the rest, it's okay, really." I could NOT convince him that I didn't need the eggs. Ben stood there smugly because he had successfully lured a friend into our home.

But that is neither here nor there. Today I want to talk about Oprah. Most of you who read this know that I went to the Oprah show in February. Most of you know because in my jubilance of making the Oprah audience team, I wrote a poem. Although the emotions and expectations surrounding the poem writing have dissipated, my pride for my poetry-writing prowess has not. And so I'm posting it. Skip to the end if you must....

The Oprah Show
I was perusing the Oprah website,
As I am periodically known to do
Checking to see what was showing today
Since 4 o’clock seems to come so soon.

Would it be a rerun with a desperate housewife,
Mowing her lawn in a bra
Or an interview with Tim or Phil
Either one of those hottie McGraws

I could be persuaded by a specialist
Showing us our innards laid out
“This is what McDonalds biweekly will do”
With a name like Oz, he’s got clout.

Will it be tragedy or triumph
Today for my 4 o’clock routine
Will I be motivated to get in shape
Or enthralled by Lisa Marie?

And there on the site whilst checking the schedule
I saw what appeared an insignificant link
“E-mail for Last-Minute Reservations”
So I did, in indelible-cyber-ink.

Fast-forward the next day at noon
I’m on the phone with my friend
Call-waiting clicks stating “Harpo Inc”
And I frenziedly hang up on Jen.

Well, it was “Julie from Audience” calling,
They got the email I sent.
Two seats in Oprah’s audience were mine,
If I could show up looking half decent.

Well, the rest of the afternoon was a blur
As I called my family, friends and Jay
Telling them my news happily,
Just to see what each had to say.

I imagined I’d have a choice on who to take,
That I might “earn” lots of kindness, without question
But apparently blood IS thicker than water
And my sister eased me of this misimpression.

So in two weeks we are headed to Chicago
For a one day trip without kids
Truth be told, I’d go see anything
For a one day trip without kids!

Between now and then I have lots to do
The perfect outfit, I really must find
Something to slim, lift and separate
Is particularly what I have in mind.

And of course I will constantly be thinking
Of something appropriate to my age
Some way, some how, SOMETHING
That will get me up on that stage!!!

I can rise to the occasion when occasion requires, but I'm not a real prolific poetry writer like my blogging friend Shelah or this totally unique and very entertaining Midwestern Poet. But as I reread this poem, a part of my heart aches for that naive joy I felt, that uninhibited zeal, those sad, sad, unrealistic expectations of Oprah.

Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't disappointed because I didn't get a car, or her favorite things show (which by the way, I cannot watch AT ALL because I turn into this malcontent, coveting wretch) or even so much an interview with Bon Jovi (it's a sick, unexplainable kind of love, don't ask) or Tom Hanks. I was excited to be doing something new and something a lot of people didn't get a chance to. And I'd never really "met" or been in that close of proximity to a star. Plus I'd never been to Chicago and doing a little trip like that with my sister was just ideal.

Well, everyone knew I was going, but I scarcely followed up with details when I got back. Because I was let down. I've probably watched the Oprah show 5 times, and none of them in its entirity, since I went in February. Here's how I described it to my sister in an email...

The Oprah Show itself was a bit of a let down. We waited for nearly 4 hours because she decided to squeeze in an extra taping between her first show and our show (she normally does 2 a day). Not only did that add to our wait time, it was super obnoxious because we had to be very quiet for an hour or so of it because the studio was right next to where we waited. Oprah the billionaire can't get a sound proof studio and a waiting room big enough to accommodate her guests. She had probably 300 guests and only room enough for 250 of them. The other 50 people literally stood in the aisles, hovering over the seated guests. We had cards with numbers on them and thought we would get to file into the seats, based on those numbers, we were told that as well. The atmosphere was a bit too much for me. A bunch of women, all dressed to the nines, hoping or thinking they looked better than anyone else there. I was about to lose my mind in that environment, combined with 70 year old Joanne yelling in my ear every 7 and half minutes for everyone to be quiet. So, after getting there early, and clinging to our numbers thinking they would get us good seats in the studio, they called about half of the audience out early as "VIPs" which I started noticing meant, "Dressed really stylish and much more attractive than the majority" but dismissed it. Then when we finally got in, it wasn't "oh this crowd fill this section" it was "how many are there of you? Oh there's 3 of you and you all look quite nice, come right down here. And you there, with the hair lip and your friend with the goiter, go ahead on up there, behind that column." Sadly, my excess weight, combined with Sara's got us seats in the rafters. Then when we were settled, and coming to terms with our unattractiveness and not-quite-stylish-enough clothes, a member of the audience department leans over two older (and also not Oprah-classified-attractive) woman to a very attractive, young, tall, olive-skinned woman, in the MIDDLE OF THE ROW and asked if she could please leave her seat in the middle of the show if at any time a seat up in the ATTRACTIVE SECTION was vacated. At that point I was incensed. But what kind of clout do fat redheads in rafters have?

The taping was of Part 4 of the Debt Diet. Oprah was tired, and the topic was boring to her, and obviously not one she relates to. As a result, we got NO interaction or acknowledgement from her. Even a Miss America wave would have sufficed, but she had places to go, people to see. Plus I was in the nosebleed section, so honestly, even if she DID wave, I'm not sure I would have seen it. I was disappointed by the seating protocol. I was disappointed by the "pep" talk we got beforehand that assured us we were the greatest most valued Oprah audience to ever step foot into Harpo studios, and I was disappointed that "embellished" reactions were encouraged. Now when I watch the show I see all the gasps of surprise and bursts of laughter and ooohs of admiration as forced---as they may well be. I held true to myself and didn't laugh once if I didn't think it was funny. I did gasp and mutter my contempt for such indulgence when they showed the teenage girl with 73 t-shirts in her closet. But that is IT. I won't be bought so cheaply.

I would have slapped my knee loudly and guffawed heartily for a new car though.

So, I watched Oprah the other day when it had Lance Armstrong's ex-wife on there. She seemed very well put together and I liked her. But something Oprah did infuriated me. And I had to compose another letter for my friend (one-sided as it may be) Oprah. Here's what happened.Kristin Armstrong's marriage to Lance failed because she says she "lost herself". She was smart, educated, successful, and independent, owned a home, dog, car, and had a great job. She met Lance and left her job, sold her house, gave up her dog, and moved to France with him and had three kids fairly quickly. She said marriage is the biggest conspiracy. It may be for some. For me, pregnancy and North Dakota are still the biggest conspiracies. She goes on to say how she lost herself and how that wasn't good for her or her marriage. Then Oprah suddenly jumps in and says, "Oh yes! That's why I've never gotten married!"
PUHHHHHHHLEASE!
I know that we all have better things to do than to criticize some TV celebrity, but Oprah is intelligent, and influential and that comment infuriated me. Some mindless woman watching will take this as her cue to disregard her vows, and "find" herself, or some “independent” woman watching will take it as her cue to never marry because she can’t bear to "lose" herself. I am educated, independent, and successful in my personal endeavors and was all of that BEFORE I met my husband. I have become MORE that since marrying him. He helps me cut the crap, improve the good stuff, raise our children, eliminate bad habits, pursue good ones, reach my goals, and be so much more than I can be alone. It's not MARRIAGE that makes the woman lose herself, nor the husband, it's the woman. There are already so many screwed up ideas about marriage and disregard for its sanctity, it saddens me that Oprah contributes to it on her show. Maybe she'll let me pick her next book for book club.