On the subject of infomercials

So who is it that invented the infomercial? Because they were smart. And mean.

Apparently the first product to be "infomercialed" was a Vitamix Blender in the 1950s. That was probably hilarious and weird. Some guy in a suit, holding the blender up and emphatically saying "VITAMIX!" over and over in a very serious tone.

I have seen my share of infomercials. The Shamwow, the Bowflex, the Food Dehydrator. I also enjoy a moment or two in the "As Seen on TV" aisle of my local Rite Aid. I know they are basically useless items that are poorly made and absolutely do not do what they claim to as well as they claim to. And yet...there is an allure to them. I have woken up at 3am, having left the TV on, when my ear catches a blip about a hair removal device, a bra-esque contraption or a nutritional supplement that, within about 3 minutes, I am convinced I not only MUST have, but that I must have been crazy to try and live without up until that moment in time. Fortunately, I do not cave to these impulses. Well, honestly? I parent a three year old and sleep is a hot commodity in this house. So exhaustion always wins out before I can dive over my snoring husband for the phone and my credit card. In the morning, I wake up and laugh at myself, at how totally sold I was, in my sleep-deprived mind, on some scam that promised to change my life. Skinny! More productive! Better skin! No panty lines!

The morning often brings clarity, does it not? Perhaps you've made some bad decisions in the dark of night that, at sunrise, seem outrageously foolish. Public, solo dancing. Taking off one's cardigan to reveal a sequined tank top and a lot of sallow, January-colored skin. A 1am run to the nearest Krispy Kreme location.

But back to the infomercials. I once actually bought something from an infomercial. It was a hammer that kept nails in a little compartment and when you pressed a button, it flipped a nail up and onto the head of the hammer where it was held magnetically. One handed hammering! Amazing! Imagine all you could be doing with your other hand when you no longer had to hold that pesky nail. I was especially enamored with the added benefit of not having to risk smashing your fingers when you held the nail in place. There were at least 30 shots of someone smashing their fingers and the announcer guy going "Ouch!" on their behalf. I was totally sucked in. "What fools we've been!" I said to no one, because I was the only moron up in the middle of the night watching this nonsense. So I called the 1-800 number and I bought one. It wasn't until after it arrived that I realized a few things:

1. At that time in life, I had approximately zero reasons to use a hammer. I was in college and I traveled light - not so much as a calendar to hang on the wall.

2. You had to hit the hammer, with the attached nail, against the wall or whatever really hard, otherwise the nail went flying across the room, lost forever under the refrigerator. So...what I failed to realize (until well after the $14.99 plus shipping and handling was firmly attached to my credit card) was that there was no way to put the nail in any precise location. A general 5 inch radius, sure. But the exact spot where you wanted it so your picture frame could be level - nope. Impossible.

3. Did I mention I had no reason at all to use a hammer?

So, I learned my lesson and never bought another infomercial product again. Except for the one lapse in memory I had when I was deeply impressed with the before and after photos and testimonials of Hydroxycut diet pills. You know, because of the "science" behind it and all. I bought them, took them faithfully for a month with no results except some unsettling jittery feelings and a weird metallic aftertaste. But seriously, it's been a solid 8 years since I've been a sucker. Well, at least insofar as it pertains to infomercials. While I've got a lot of years of clean time under my belt, I must ask you...if you see me get a faraway dreamy look in my eyes due to a P90X infomercial, please, just whisper the word "Hydroxycut" in my ear and gently point me in the direction of my running shoes.

On the subject of TV

My relationship with TV has been an on again off again romance. As a child, I mostly eschewed cartoons in favor of playing outside. But around middle school when body parts are growing rapidly, hormones rear their ugly head and one makes poor choices in hair salons, I got pretty into TV. Everything from Divorce Court to Oprah to the comforting TGIF prime time lineup. In 88-89, basically on a Friday night, unless my ONE friend wanted to go roller skating, it was pretty much going to be me, Balki and Cousin Larry. It was helpful to have something that kind of felt like company before I was cool enough to have much. (I don't know if I ever actually hit "cool" but I somehow figured out that confidence was an acceptable substitute and have been going with that ever since to varying degrees of success.)

In college, TV was out. Way out. I had absolutely no idea who Dawson was and I could not pick any of the Party of Five cast out of a line up. Still! That whole mid 90s TV era is Greek to me. From the time I gave away my tiny television my Freshman year, until I got married in 2006, I did not own a television. I just didn't need one. I didn't use one at all until 2004, when my friends and I discovered the crack-level addiction that is 24. For weeks, I ate, breathed and dreamed Jack Bauer. How, for example, if I had a dog, I'd name it after him.

When I first got married, my husband and I religiously watched The Sopranos, Six Feet Under and Lost. These were all such high-quality, engaging shows with great writing and acting. I found myself thinking about the characters from Six Feet Under, frequently. It felt like they lived right down the street and any one of them could wander into my kitchen at any moment. Sadly, that never happened. But I loved those shows and I miss them.

Motherhood does weird things to tv watching. On the one hand, we didn't want to expose Little Miss to too much tv, so we mostly kept it off. But when you are up with a fussy baby at 3am with no sleep in sight, you just stare lifelessly at whatever you can find that doesn't have sex and violence in it in the middle of the night. Let me tell you - slim pickin's. You're basically limited to the movie Mama Mia and infomercials. I almost called for a set of those knives once - what can I say? Sleep deprivation makes a crazy person out of anyone.

Recently, I have discovered a few shows that I really like via Netflix streaming. I watched all of Once Upon a Time Season 1 a month or so ago. Despite my skepticism that a grown up show about Fairy Tales could be all that interesting, I really got into it. I began to think about the characters when I was away from them a little bit - it felt nice to know that the odd decent narrative or two is still out there to enjoy. A couple of weeks ago, I started Season 1 of Revenge. I may have found my favorite character, ever, in the female protagonist, Emily Thorn. She does bad things for good reasons. So much to consider, in the realm of moral dilemma! I used to think fiction (books and movies) were kind of a waste of time. I favored theology, self-help and how-to type books in the name of attempting to become a "better" person, whatever that means. But what I've realized about good fiction - it makes me think a lot more than those books that told me what to do and what not to do ever did. Fascinating characters, impossible choices, redemption. There is wisdom to be found in a good story.