My outside plans to do some barn sprucing-up last Saturday were dashed by record-low temperatures and a wind chill “to die for.” Cold and pooped out, I found the couch and a nice thick comforter all too inviting.
Channel flipping, I counted an amazing 26 “you can’t live without this” infomercials all airing at the same time. Deciding to do a little amusement study, I gave each well-spoken host five minutes of my time to talk me into their most amazing product.
Not entirely believing a person holds 30 pounds of sludge in their innards at any given time, I figured the intestinal sure-cleaner-outer was a hoax. The host made a grasping plea to all of us in television land to buy his product before we blew up, but he sure didn’t convince me to run for my credit card, as there were no before and after photos – not even a famous movie star to tell me how wonderful I would feel after a 30-day supply. Now, if the product would have come complete with a brand spankin’ new John Deere manure spreader, he would have really gotten my attention.
I learned how to build a deck in 30 minutes without tools! This host went to town constructing snap-together lumber-look-alike plastic rails, posts, and decorative flooring, complete with cup holders on the railings, a settee for morning coffee sipping, and a nifty little corner hutch to store bird-watching binoculars. Since it won my “I don’t think so” award, I just had to call the 800 number with a few questions. Operator number nine hung up on me after my simple inquiry of how many huffs and puffs it would take to crumble the deck to smithereens.
Hostess Diane sported three beautiful long-haired Persian cats on her lap, explaining that her “surefire cure for hairball” formula had saved the cats’ lives and eliminated the need for a vacuum cleaner. Laughing until I turned blue, I sure hoped other infomercial watchers were seeing the same claws tearing through Diane’s silk dress that I was, eliminating the need for credit card orders.
“Counseling for the rural community” was being offered by a minister and his wife, piquing my curiosity. After viewing way more than the allotted five minutes, I wondered just how much calm communication there was between the couple when the pigs got out and tore up the wife’s garden. Or when the minister’s tractor was stuck in two feet of mud and the wife annihilated the transmission of the pickup while trying to pull him out. I’m willing to bet that, off-camera, that religious couple knows a whole bunch of swear words and the wife can throw a well-aimed hammer to counsel her better half into deep thought.
Right up my alley, the new and improved navigation system just about claimed my credit card number. Oh, if it only came inside a saddle horn, I would be a dedicated shopper for life. Visualizing a pop-up horn that directed horse and rider to turn left at the stump and right at the old oak tree, or to zigzag ten degrees through a maze of cockleburs, I figured all of us lost riders on the trail would be home safe and sound in no time at all!
One of the best buys all day, as far as I was concerned, was the “eat anything you want and lose weight” diet video. The host had me hook, line, and sinker with my hand on the phone, ready to order, when the fine print scrolled across the bottom of the screen: “This diet is recommended for persons to use in conjunction with a total fitness program burning 20K calories per day.” Doing some calculating, my dreams of a steady chocolate cake and ice cream diet vanished with the thought of exercising 29 hours per day.
So, this little bottle of “invisible cover-it-up” was supposed to vanish all wrinkles and laugh lines in a matter of seconds. The before and after photos were amazing, and, looking close at the television screen, it sure did appear there was invisible makeup in the jar. Hmmm, this infomercial must be for those who truly believed.
The “oldies” tapes were delightful, and I sang right along with all the top-10 songs until I put two and two together, realizing the host was actually calling me old! His channel was flipped in a hurry.
“Beautiful, strong, well-defined abs in a matter of 60 days,” says the host with pimples on his face. Old people don’t require abs, you young nut; they carry guns.
I’ve never ever seen a gal chop and puree vegetables faster than with the contraption on channel 348. If I live to be a hundred, there’s no way in any given day that I, along with my entire extended family, could eat twenty pounds of neatly diced carrots and tomatoes in one sitting. Yes, ma’am, your machine chops very fast, but wouldn’t it make a little more sense to open up a can of nicely cut green beans and pour them into a saucepan while saving on the “three-easy-installments” plan?
Finally, an infomercial that made sense! The book was drastically discounted at $29.95 for persons swamped in debt with no way out. The title was Debt Free in 30 Days, and the small words scrolling across the bottom stated: “Cash only, no credit cards accepted and absolutely no refunds”…