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You!

As Seen on TV

by Deborah Ross

I can tell you exactly what’s wrong with this country.  It’s not the President, or the tea party.  It’s You.

It’s not I.  I already know which hair and face serums will alter my DNA to prevent frizz and reduce the signs of ageing, and I spend the extra money — not as much as They probably do to get actual surgical results, of course, but as much as I possibly can.  Because I’m worth it. 

(Nor is it We.  We’re also worth it.  We’re still worth it.)

And it’s definitely not They, despite what you may think.  They’re already thin and attractive.  They already have the right Gs and apps. They already dance around their hardwood floors with the correct costly non-reusable cleaning products to the tune of the eighties pop songs from their high school or college years.  They already have the awning that enables them to use their deck area even on the hottest days of the summer.  Their children’s ADHD and parents’ Alzheimer’s are already being treated with the right combination of pharmaceuticals.  We watch them carefully.  That’s how We know what to get.

No.  It’s You! You’re a mess.  You can’t do the simplest things.  You can’t figure out how to wash your feet and so you soil your sheets.  Your pets flee from you when you try to brush them, and especially if you have cats, even if you know how to get rid of the odor of their urine, you’re floored by their feces.  And you shouldn’t even be allowed in the kitchen.  You have this nearly irresistible urge to toss gravel in your non-stick pans.  Whenever you try to make spaghetti, you have no idea how much water to use, it all sticks together, or it’s mushy, or you scald yourself when you try to strain it.  As for hard-boiled eggs, forget about it.  You have to stay up all night trying to peel them, your hair gets all frizzy and in your face, and then the darned things just won’t stand up on a plate.

Actually you’re an idiot all over the house.  In the living room, even though you weigh a lot less than the average sumo wrestler, you can’t seem to get up off your sagging couch or chair.  The study?  You have no idea why your computer is so slow and are forced to yell at your mom about it even if she no longer lives with you.  And the bedroom is a complete disaster any way you look at it.  Your pillow throws your whole spine out of alignment.  No wonder you need sleep aids.  Every time you jump up and down on your bed, the glass of red wine on your partner’s side tips over.  No wonder although you are taking an antidepressant you are still experiencing some symptoms.  No wonder you’re Christian and single.  No wonder you’re hoping someone out there is looking for you, has already sent you a message.  But though you probably use a computer all day at work, you have no idea how such a message could ever be found.  Hopeless.

And it’s not like you can go to the mall to meet people, or buy things.  How would you get there? The headlights on your car are so foggy it’s not only dangerous but embarrassing, and you have no idea what you could use to restore their original showroom brightness.  And if you did get there you’d probably just head right for the bladder control aisle, and everyone would know your private business — but of course you’d never get that far because the mall atmosphere would make you lose your balance and fall over because you don’t have the special magnetic bracelet.

Here’s what you need to do.  First of all, you have too much stuff and not enough space.  Too much stuff.  Not enough space.

So obviously, first, get more space.  For instance, you should have an entire drawer in your kitchen for just one knife.  (It will be a ceramic knife that you will go to for everything, and that even you, normally a klutz with cutting, will be able to manage.)  Probably this means you should buy a bigger house.  Mortgage rates are low now so this shouldn’t be a problem, if you can qualify.  If you’re a male, though, you should probably keep living with your folks forever so that whenever you spill something your mom can continue to pop out of a back room with a paper towel.  And a house of your own might mean a lawn, and you just won’t be able to use a trimmer without constantly breaking the line.

Then, whether or not you get more space, get more stuff.  I couldn’t possibly list all the stuff you need, and after all, this is your problem.  You need to study Them, as We did.  But here are some hints.

Do get the right knife and meat loaf pans and microwave cooking implements and tiny blenders.  But don’t cook.  Have delicious fresh food delivered right to your door (along with your discreetly packaged incontinence products).  That way you can eat right AND lose the weight.  You won’t look as good as They do, but you may get almost as good as some of Us in our after pictures.  You have to stand with your hips on a diagonal and then turn your upper body to face the camera.  There is a cable TV show that will tell you how to do this.

Also, one word:  vacuum.  I don’t just mean the one with the ball that goes around all the furniture.  I mean that any other thing that could be without a vacuum turns out to be a lot better with one.  Storage bags, for instance.  Lint brushes and pet groomers.  (Cats who hate to be brushed seem to love one that makes a loud noise.)  And most important of all — the device that’s actually covered by Medicaid and most insurance.  This one will enable you to get the most out of life, to be all you can be.

Don’t worry about the money.  A second one of almost anything is free if you are willing to pay the additional shipping and handling.  And you can always rent to own and just stop paying when you need to, at any time.  Or get credit counseling and loan consolidation.  Or if you’re lucky you or your spouse or child may turn out to have something like mesothelioma, and you can sue someone.  And then you may be able to exchange your structured settlement for a much smaller amount of immediate cash.

If you have a brain in your head, you will call this number as soon as you’ve finished reading this message, because you only have a limited time. 

Jumping on Bed

Picture by Anton Fratzke, photoshop done by Weston Cannon

Deborah Ross is a transplant from upstate New York who has lived in Hawai'i for over thirty years.  She has two talented children, one of whom took the wine glass picture above.  She teaches at Hawai'i Pacific University and writes academic articles about cartoons as well as creative pieces in magazines such as CT Review and Hawai'i Pacific Review.  Other work can be read at Stone's Throw and Defenestration; see her HPU Bio page here.

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