Oprah’s Weekly Giveaway

Coming up next: two siamese twins separated, only on Oprah. Another grab and jab of joyous reality. Sitting upon my mother’s multiple customized couches, spanning the time of an adolescent decade, my childhood was filled with Oprah memories and inspired notions, as silly as it sounds. As I frantically scribbled US History facts all across slated index cards, multitasking and procrastinating, my peripheral vision couldn’t help but catch the Coming Up Next. Growing with Oprah, from an early age to tweens, still remains a lucid memory implanted in this pop-culture fueled mind of mine.

Do you remember the SNL skit where mothers, portrayed as voracious beings, yelped and shoved each other for an iPod giveaway? (Was it an iPod giveaway? Who am I trying to fool? You?) The skit itself was ingenious. The truthful matter speaks much for a certain standard, or rather desire, American society repeatedly requests. Obviously, these suburban adults need a few gadgets here and there because the sex may be slacking. Just a theory.

Apart from those entranced adults, there was me. Taylor Ghrist. Age 8.

Oprah gave me a glimpse and almost soap-opera like portrayal of the world I lived in. Now, Oprah is no Anderson Cooper or Diane Sawyer. Instead, she’s more. She’s her own brand, person, show, magazine, and fucking empire broadcasting stories, both uplifting and tragic. All American families seemed to have flocked to the nearest Barnes and Noble, assumedly located at that shopping district, just to buy Mattie Stepanek’s (soon-to-be) bestseller titled Heartsongs. Mattie’s story became an instant sensation. I can recall tears rolling from my mother’s eyes as she gazed and overheard his interviews.

We bought the book.

The stories told on Oprah certainly made my imagination go haywire at times, far more than A Bug’s Life. I loved A Bug’s Life, but that’s not the point. At all. As a starting reference, I’ll mention the sex offender episodes. These episodes made me frequently interrogate my surroundings. I couldn’t see certain adults in the same light. Oprah had me questioning everyone’s secret lives and motives and dark, dark habits, which I know you have (because you do).

Seemingly, Oprah also encouraged materialism. “Oh wow, Mom. We should purchase that new Dyson vacuum cleaner. Oh wow, Mom. We should get a Macintosh. No, no. The clamshell one.”  These moments, humorous as they are, make me wonder if Oprah had an effect on my own materialistic ways. I suppose if I hadn’t watched Oprah on a daily basis I’d probably still be the same person I am now. It’d be completely trivial and frivolous if I just criticized Oprah for contributing a negative stigma and making me weak at my knees every moment the clamshell laptop appeared right before my eyes.

I bought that clamshell laptop.

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