Oh, No, Oprah! Don't Go!

OK, so I catch on late. I’m finally watching Oprah now that it’s the “Farewell Season”. It’s highly addictive what with one day Oprah is screaming, “YES-I’M-GIVING-YOU-A-MILLION-DOLLARS-BECAUSE-I-CAN!” and then the next day she’s crying over a tragic story of a bipolar mother who smothered her infants after a distressing trip to Dairy Queen. What probably also helps is watching her via DVR after 9:00 p.m. while on my fourth glass of Shiraz.


My favorite of the week was about a single, abandoned mom who worked three jobs, and put her one son and two adopted Asian refugee daughters through college. Of course, Oprah came through. She sent the mom and her family on her dream vacation to Italy; she paid off the kids’ 78K college debt, plus gave the mom a year off with full salary so she could have time to remember her spirit. I cried. Really. For me. Because I know now I’ll never get on that show. That mom was really smart. Once she knew the camera crew was enroute from Harpo productions, she stuck that postcard of Florence out on her fridge. You know she had to have planned that. I’d do the same and even go better: As the cameras rolled, I’d narrate: “I’ve always wanted to buy a villa in Italy and live there for the rest of my life tax-free while taking in illiterate Bosnian refugees and starting a book club for them; this can be evidenced by this empty box of Barilla pasta that I’ve kept tacked above my stove for the past 15 sad years."

Here’s the beauty of Oprah. One day, she devotes an entire episode to “food issues”. There’s an author who just wrote a book about Food and God. Weight gain is now a profoundly spiritual issue. No longer can we blame big bones or overactive thyroids. Oprah tears up with an “I’ve been there, honey” look while several obese women sob, watching their video testimonials. Stories of hiding the Thanksgiving turkey and such. Just when you’ve vowed to drink Dr. Oz’s green vegetable shakes for the rest of your life, the next episode has Oprah and her gal pal Gail finding the “BEST DAMN CHICKEN POT PIE IN THE COUNTRY!” What happened to the “spiritual path that genuinely nourishes our soul?” What happened to the daily 12 step-ish prayers we’re supposed to do when confronted with flakey crusts? Is God just dead on Oprah's Favorite Things days?

The most entertaining guests so far have been the Judds. (Minus the pretty political actress one who doesn't look fun)Winona now sports the hair color and complexion of a Buffalo Chicken Wing. Naomi came on calmly medicated with Baby Jane makeup and a visible halo. I’m still not sure if they were on for inspiration or comic relief. Their therapist was sitting in the audience, I guess giving them thumbs up signs after every platitude uttered. I now know who reads those pocket-sized daily affirmation books. Winona did have the best line of the week. She was explaining the reason her life had been such a mess:

     “Oprah, I didn’t put my name on the list”.

Oprah then repeated the mantra back to her and nodded in approval,

     “You didn’t put your name on the list. That’s good.”

It was then that I realized Winona Judd held the secret to my happiness:

     I just need to put my name on the list.

Can someone tell me where this list is?