My mother showed me an email chain the other day about how different things are now than they were in 1955. Not only was I glad to see that we no longer expect women to go to the salon every week (I mean, I’m proud of myself if I brush my hair every week) I was also reminded of how much things change, or simply become obsolete.
Anyone from my generation remembers at least one story about the first television in our parents’ neighborhood. As a kid, I found appalling the idea of a whole slew of people gathered around a 13-inch screen encased in a huge piece of furniture to hide all the wires and tubes. As I scoured all 57 channels with a remote control that had a wire attached, looking for a rerun of “Charles in Charge,” I shook my head and wondered how they could have lived like that.
My kids will never know what it’s like to get up and change the channel. Or what it’s like to engage in intense negotiations with a sibling to convince them to get up and change it, instead. One time, I traded a whole week of doing the dishes for turning off a Brady Bunch rerun (that I knew verbatim and probably made my sister live through again, anyway).
One of the other things my kids won’t have the pleasure of experiencing is infomercials. They don’t even understand the concept. It’s like trying to explain a hashtag to my dad. He sees that it’s there, but the purpose it not really clear.
When I graduated from college, I thought I wanted to work in television. Therefore, I got a job at a TV station. Isn’t it funny how our college ideals never actually match reality? Instead of sitting behind a desk, reading off a teleprompter, I found myself sitting behind a control panel, pushing buttons. Lots of buttons.
When I worked the Saturday day shift, my entire eight-hour day consisted of airing infomercials, one after another. It was a monotonous, torturous experience where there was nearly nothing to do for 28 minutes and 30 seconds at a time. I would watch these things, incredulous at the audacity of the producer. How could anyone make something so blatantly awful? Who could ever watch one of these things and actually believe a word that was said? I would laugh and mock the entire enterprise.
Then I would head home to my (at the time) boyfriend.
“You will not believe what I had to air today. There was an infomercial for this bucket o’ cleaning solution that, according to the ad, will make a Dalmatian white again.”
Four to six weeks later, I was the proud owner of not just one, but two buckets of Kwik&Brite. He must have acted fast and paid just the shipping and handling on the second “free” tub o’ cleaner.
It’s still on the top shelf in the bathroom closet.
There is not an infomercial out there that my husband can pass by. I once wrestled him for the phone to stop the purchase of a floor steam cleaner. There was an incident over some knives and I deftly thwarted the purchase of a high powered blender.
“We already have an excellent blender.”
“But this one is better. Did you see how fast it blended that kale into a smoothie?”
“When have you ever had a kale smoothie?”
“I could one day develop a taste for kale smoothies and then what? I won’t have a blender to make one.”
“Yes, you will. Because we have a blender that has no problem with kale.”
“It won’t be the same.”
A package arrived in the mail this week. As I did not remember placing any recent orders, I looked at the return address for some clarification. It was then that I realized my husband had been at it again. He has been left alone in the house, with too few chores, a remote control, and a credit card.
So now, the atomic flashlights (of course there are two) can hang out with our knife set, and bonus kitchen shears. Together, they can keep the ultimate chopper company, tucked away in the back of the cabinet. Because there is such a thing as TOO chopped. Nobody wants liquid onions. Nobody.
In case you were wondering about that kale smoothie, I’m including a recipe. You will need to get yourself a Vitamix for this one, but for just five easy payments, they’ll also include a book of ultimate Vitamix recipes and their eternal gratitude. I’m totally making that up. I have no idea if it comes with the recipe book. Interestingly enough, Vitamix was the subject of the first ever infomercial, in 1949. You can check it out here and see how it all started.
Damn you, Mr. Vitamix. That IS the best blender I’ve ever seen.
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Laurie Nigro, is the mother of two biological children and one husband. She also takes care of a menagerie of animals that leaves throw-up around for her to step in in the middle of the night. Laurie’s passionate about frugal, natural living, which is a nice way of saying she’s a kombucha-brewing, incense-burning, foodie freak who tries really hard not to spend money on crap made by child laborers. You can hear her rant about her muse (aka husband) and other things that have no bearing on your life, in this space each Sunday.
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