You Win(frey) some, you lose(frey) some

I am still in a perpetual state of updating this blog with the content from my old blog and I came across this entry, which seems apt in the wake of the James Frey situation. Maybe a new title should reflect this? “Frey can’t win with Winfrey”?

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Original post date: 5/16/05

I just don’t know what I would say if I ever met Oprah.

The woman doesn’t take compliments and really, what more can you say to Oprah besides “Oprah, you’re great! Your ability to tell it like it is and lose weight, combined with the fact that you have ridden in Travolta’s jet makes the world love you”.
The problem is that Oprah already knows this.
She even probably knows that the only reason people are on her show is just to hang out with her, not to reveal their personal stories of anorexia and alcoholism. There was that one show where the girl came on to tell some harrowing tale about being raped. Only this girl made up the story. Fabricated every word! The first rule of being on Oprah is you do not lie to Oprah! When Oprah found out this girl was fakin’ it, she sure told it like it was, boy oh boy. Did she ever tell it like it was. But then, and this is exactly what we the people love about Oprah, she had the girl BACK on so that she could be like “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Oprah Court, this girl is a liar. She lied on my show! The Oprah Show! LIED! TO! ME!!” To be called out by the world’s favorite person really doesn’t bode well for your interpersonal future:

“Nice to meet you, my name is Felicity”
“Hi Felicity, don’t I know you?”
“I don’t think so”
“No, wait. Yes. Yes I do know you. You’re the girl who lied to Oprah! And she FACED you! I don’t need a liar in my life. It was NOT nice meeting you, Felicity. You have some nerve. Hey Cheryl! This is the girl who lied to OPRAH!”

Such is the power of Winfrey. Oprah knows that girl took advantage of the good people at Harpo Productions, so she made that girl PAY! And it was awesome. She has no patience for the audience members who have a question for a cheating spouse but first just want to say how fab Oprah looks. Oprah just rolls right on past and is like “I’m Oprah and my pantsuit was made by angels. Just get to your question.”

I think the saddest thing I saw on Oprah was when Tracey Gold was there to talk about her drunk driving incident. First and foremost she wanted to tell Oprah that her husband Robbie was disappointed he couldn’t be with her on the show because he is just the biggest Oprah fan, but he had to work. There is so much in that one sentence that pains me. It’s not that men can’t love Oprah too, there is just something about the fact that Oprah makes dreams come true for everyone and yet she couldn’t get Robbie a day off from work to be a guest on her own show. And what of Tracey Gold’s Growing Pains residual checks, we couldn’t stretch those a smidge? No one had frequent flier miles they could turn over to him?
I find it hard to believe that no one could find a way for Robbie to get to Chicago, but you need not worry, there was still enough Oprah love in the studio without him.

So seriously, what would you say to the woman who just doesn’t take compliments? Or do you think she loves compliments but just internalizes them and if you DON’T compliment her she will make a mental note of it? What does it take to crack the Oprah shell, I wonder. Also, do you think that if she carries around her own wallet, she keeps those pictures of Julia Roberts’ twins in there?

The woman has a firm grasp on the malleable minds of we, her people. We are Oprah Apostles. O-postles. Our eyes dilate and pupils spiral to show our allegiance to her Angel Network and its beliefs in things like charity and literacy and foods rich in Omega-3 Fatty Acids. That’s why I am going to take the Oprah Challenge this year. That’s where you eat things like a serving of salmon drizzled with lemon juice and a handful of almonds and work out eight times a week in order to better yourself. Honest, eight workouts a week, there is no day of rest for the Opostles.

You are supposed to do all this for your inner self, but my outer self also wants to look good in a halter. Oprah makes you sign a contract that you will uphold these rules of good health. She says it’s purely a contract with yourself, but I know that really, Oprah the Omniscient will KNOW if I ingest white flour. She will fly from Chicago to wave her finger of disapproval in my face if I can’t hack it. It will be at this moment that my mind will go blank and the only thing I will be able to say is “Oprah. You are great. I love that you tell it like it is and girl, you look good and I’m jealous that you’ve ridden in Travolta’s jet. Oprah. The world loves you.” because the synapses in my mind have ceased to fire and it’s as if her mere presence is kryptonite to my keeping-it-togetherness. And Oprah will be like “Girl, Oprah knows. Now this better be your last supper of empty calories and low fiber” and I know it will be, because I do not want to be the one who betrays Oprah with a Hershey Kiss.

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