I Will Never Be On The Oprah Winfrey Show

It recently occurred to me that The Oprah Winfrey Show was in its final season. This wasn't exactly news, I had been aware of this fact all year, but it did occur to me, rather, that because the show was in its final season, I would never be a guest on it.
I never told anyone that it was one of my greatest aspirations, to be on The Oprah Winfrey Show. I never uttered the words aloud. It's a strange aspiration, I think. I didn't care how I got there, I just knew I wanted to do something worthy of being interviewed by the talk show legend.
Oprah was there from the beginning; on the air since 1986. I was born merely a year later to lower class parents in an industrial, concrete city in upstate New York. My dad worked for the concrete company, in fact, and my mom stayed home and watched the neighborhood kids after school for something like twenty dollars a week. At 4pm, while the other kids were playing kickball in the empty lot next store, my mom and I watched the Oprah Winfrey Show on CBS from the comfort of our denim couch.
Over the many years, I became quite familiar with the formula that Oprah used. Some episodes were aimed towards fun; an interview with a movie star about their latest roles and relationships or a show following her and her side kick, Gayle on an exotic vacation to Fiji or South Africa. Some episodes were tear-jerkers, usually the ones that aired on Mondays. She would interview a woman who's dog had been killed as her house burned to the ground after being fired from her job after refusing to have sex with her boss who was actually her step father; some messed up stuff. There was Oprah's Book Club, Oprah's favorite things, and then, there were the really inspiring episodes, where Oprah would interview people who were doing incredible things in the world; sending orphans to college, feeding homeless people displaced by natural disasters, overcoming great obstacles. Oprah would end up donating money or food or supplies in obscene amounts and someone like Celine Dion or Andrea Boccelli or Bono would sing at the end of the show.

At times in my life, I imagined Oprah sitting in the cream colored leather chair across from me and saying something like: "How did you survive?"
I imagined telling her about how hard it was to grow up poor, witness to alcoholism and drug abuse, in a neighborhood infiltrated with skinheads. I imagined telling her about how I overcame all of my great adversities to become an opera singer or a surgeon.
At other points in my life, I could see myself on Oprah's little stage, telling the story of my work in the inner city with abused teenage girls. A video would be playing in the background - a montage of moments with images of me playing soccer with middle school girls, me helping them with their homework, me making their dreams come true. The camera would pan to Oprah's audience and they would stand and clap and some would cry.
It really didn't matter to me how I got there or what story I would be telling when I did, but that was success to me. If I could just do something worthy of talking to Oprah about, I would consider my life "fulfilled."
But now, it seems I've missed my chance for greatness. After being taken for almost 25 years, the 4pm slot will be replaced with a new talk show about doctors or plastic surgery or something vacant like that.
I did think I would have a little more time. After all, I am only twenty three years old, and haven't even started to write my Pulitzer Prize winning novel, yet. I haven't really begun to accomplish any of the things I hoped I would. Barely scraping along with a part time job and $17,000 worth of student loans, I have no pending projects, no charitable work, no notable accomplishments to speak of.
It is a sad realization; that I will never be on The Oprah Winfrey Show, for any reason. But I don't think I will ever stop daydreaming about our imaginary interview. I still want to do something with my life that is worthy of her time. She is the cornerstone on which I have based all of my ideals. I may have run out of time to earn a segment on basic cable, but I still have time to write that best selling self help book, and maybe I'll use the money I make to build a  recreation center that mentors juvenile delinquents or to develop a program that teaches homeless individuals job skills. I still have plenty of time for all of that.

But I have to wonder, what will the world be like without Oprah? Will anyone's generosity be praised? Will anyone get to tell their story of survival? And if not, will people stop being generous? Will they stop overcoming adversity? I fear for the future of television, and thus the future of our culture if the 4pm slot is filled with celebrity gossip shows or political propaganda. I hope someone steps up to tell the good stories.

Marriage Is: Comparing Love Handles

I am no expert on marriage. My husband and I are still four months short of our first anniversary. But whether I like it or not, everyday I am learning more about what it means to be a wife, what it means to be yoked to another human, what it means to fulfill another's need for love and beauty.
The following statements are what I have found to be true of marriage, thus far.

1. Marriage is: Comparing Love Handles

I met my husband when I was fourteen years old. He was a sophomore and I was a freshman and no one was more handsome or fit. I wasn't too out of shape, myself, weighing in at just about a buck with long brown hair and dewy, young skin. Fast forward nine years, and we're still both young, and marginally attractive, but things certainly don't look the way they used to. Picture two comfortable twenty something's standing in their underwear, brushing their teeth, plucking their nose hairs, applying zit cream, comparing love handles. Marriage is: humility.

2. Marriage is: Flatulence Warfare

Everyone has gas. Some use theirs as a weapon. Marriage is: laughter.

3. Marriage is: Having Someone to go to Costco With

Because let's face it, a single person has no business shopping in bulk. Maybe we are simple and boring, but it feels good to be consumers together. Giant bag of dog food, check. Giant palate of NY Strips, check. Giant package of toilet paper, check, check. It's not just Costco, either; the library, the bank, the gym, the gynecologist. I consider it a good sign for our marriage that I want to spend every waking second with my husband and he wants to spend most of his time with me. But it's not that bad. I don't actually make him come to the lady doctor with me and he let's me off the hook when he watches TopGear. Marriage is: a best friend, a partner, a family.

4. Marriage is: Someone to Tell You When You Have Eye Boogers

One of the best compliments I have ever received was given to me when I was away on a school trip with my classmates, sharing a hotel room overnight with the other flute players in the band. Kate said, "You look amazing when you wake up in the morning when most of us look like we just went on a month bender in Vegas." I consider that one of the most generous things anyone has ever said about me. Imagine my false sense of security when waking up next to my new husband years later, pillow face, crusty eyes, morning breath; really attractive. Further more, imagine my surprise when he leaned over, kissed my eyebrow and told me how beautiful I looked in the morning. Oh, and that I had an eye booger. Love is: blind.

And so it seems that marriage is turning out to be a little less glamorous and romantic than I had always imagined. There are more disagreements about money and less candlelit dinners than I thought there would be. We are finding that there is serious work involved. And we're still new at this. But in these last nine months, bound in holy and unpredictable matrimony, I have learned that marriage is: such a gift.