Well, I did make an honest and sincere effort to watch Oprah Winfrey’s special on Sunday night in its entirety, but I couldn’t take it so I turned the television off about 25 minutes into the program. I really don’t want to go into too much detail about my feelings toward Oprah, because this blog would be three days long, and she’s simply not worth it. Of the two things I’m proudest of in my life, not watching any of her programs in their entirety is one of them. She’s the dean, if you will, of the self-obsession movement and in my opinion she’s insufferable.
Anyhow, she waddled into the oval office at 10 PM Pacific and the next 25 minutes was some of the oddest television I’ve seen in a while. I have no idea what the back story is, and I don’t really care, although I have a few friends who I am sure will fill me in, but there is something painfully awkward about the Obamas and Oprah. I don’t know if she thinks she should be president herself, or if B. Obama knows that she thinks she should be president and therefore feels threatened by her, or if M. Obama thinks O. is out for her husband, or if she’s aware that O. is the first lady of the people, M. Obama’s title be damned, or maybe O. was expecting her campaign contributions to be rewarded with an appointment of some sort (can you just imagine?). Or maybe it has something to do with the dog. Am I the only one who cringes a little bit every time the dog is mentioned? Seriously, it was amusing, sort of, for the first couple of days, but on Sunday evening, as is often the case, the dog is used as a filler, a segue. In 25 minutes of uncomfortable stiffness, the attempt at spontaneous doggy banter between Oprah and Michelle Obama stole the show. Both women sort of shifted into a black dialect, as if it were funny somehow, as if that was the signal that they were being real. I was embarrassed for both of them.
The weirdest part of Sunday night was the president himself. I’ve been slacking a bit on the news lately, so I had no idea that he was meeting with some of the money people on Monday. On 60 Minutes, he told Steve Kroft that he didn’t run for office to look after the Wall Street fat cats. He was equally outspoken with Oprah. The president’s refrain, of course, is beyond familiar: The tax payers have bailed out the banks and now they’re giving themselves huge bonuses while the rest of the country lingers in a recession and that’s just not okay. We must do something.
Good luck on that. The first commercial on the Oprah special, believe it or not, was for Bank of America, which was touting its plan to “invest” more than a trillion dollars over the next 10 years in communities that will benefit from financial assistance. The second commercial was for a pharmaceutical company.
I do not understand how Obama or any of them can talk tough about the banking class and expect anyone to take them seriously, given what’s happened in the past year. And apparently I’m not alone in that sentiment. By daybreak on Monday morning, the testicles on Pennsylvania Avenue had shrank back down to human size, at least for David Axelrod, who went on Good Morning America to talk about Obama’s upcoming meetings with the bankers, using different verbs than the ones used on Sunday night, softer, easier verbs such as “suggest” and “recommend.” In a country where money apparently has more power than the army, I’m actually afraid of what would happen if someone did really tell the bankers what they may and may not do with public assistance funding, so I was relieved at what a difference eight or nine hours can make.
Anyhow, she waddled into the oval office at 10 PM Pacific and the next 25 minutes was some of the oddest television I’ve seen in a while. I have no idea what the back story is, and I don’t really care, although I have a few friends who I am sure will fill me in, but there is something painfully awkward about the Obamas and Oprah. I don’t know if she thinks she should be president herself, or if B. Obama knows that she thinks she should be president and therefore feels threatened by her, or if M. Obama thinks O. is out for her husband, or if she’s aware that O. is the first lady of the people, M. Obama’s title be damned, or maybe O. was expecting her campaign contributions to be rewarded with an appointment of some sort (can you just imagine?). Or maybe it has something to do with the dog. Am I the only one who cringes a little bit every time the dog is mentioned? Seriously, it was amusing, sort of, for the first couple of days, but on Sunday evening, as is often the case, the dog is used as a filler, a segue. In 25 minutes of uncomfortable stiffness, the attempt at spontaneous doggy banter between Oprah and Michelle Obama stole the show. Both women sort of shifted into a black dialect, as if it were funny somehow, as if that was the signal that they were being real. I was embarrassed for both of them.
The weirdest part of Sunday night was the president himself. I’ve been slacking a bit on the news lately, so I had no idea that he was meeting with some of the money people on Monday. On 60 Minutes, he told Steve Kroft that he didn’t run for office to look after the Wall Street fat cats. He was equally outspoken with Oprah. The president’s refrain, of course, is beyond familiar: The tax payers have bailed out the banks and now they’re giving themselves huge bonuses while the rest of the country lingers in a recession and that’s just not okay. We must do something.
Good luck on that. The first commercial on the Oprah special, believe it or not, was for Bank of America, which was touting its plan to “invest” more than a trillion dollars over the next 10 years in communities that will benefit from financial assistance. The second commercial was for a pharmaceutical company.
I do not understand how Obama or any of them can talk tough about the banking class and expect anyone to take them seriously, given what’s happened in the past year. And apparently I’m not alone in that sentiment. By daybreak on Monday morning, the testicles on Pennsylvania Avenue had shrank back down to human size, at least for David Axelrod, who went on Good Morning America to talk about Obama’s upcoming meetings with the bankers, using different verbs than the ones used on Sunday night, softer, easier verbs such as “suggest” and “recommend.” In a country where money apparently has more power than the army, I’m actually afraid of what would happen if someone did really tell the bankers what they may and may not do with public assistance funding, so I was relieved at what a difference eight or nine hours can make.
