As Seen on TV

Today is Epiphany Sunday, the day on which most churches are observing the visit of the Magi (read: wisemen...or in this gender-equalified society should it be wisepersons? Issue for another time...) to the infant Jesus. Epiphany means "to manifest or show" in Greek and the holiday honors the revelation of God in the person of Jesus and the important act of recognizing that revelation, as the Magi did. Unfortunately, our congregation wasn't recognizing any revelations of God this morning....church was canceled due to a snow emergency.

So, I was left to develop epiphanies of my own at home. And here is what I came up with:

While lounging around in this unexpected day off, in between the eating of dips and the playing of Super Mario Bros Wii, the Spouse was flipping channels (not as extensive of an activity when you only have an antenna and not digital cable) and kept coming back around to an infomercial about the NuWave Oven (see above), a strange countertop heating device that-you guessed it-cooks food. After spending several minutes communally denouncing the device as a fad-ish, fraudulent microwave imposter, there were a few moments of silence after which Mr. Spouse lazily mused "Why are infomercials SO satisfying?"
"I don't know," I answered from the kitchen where I was filling up on dip, "but they really are aren't they?"
This line of thought led me to consider, for a moment, the part I most appreciate about infomercials, which happens to be the ridiculous dramatizations of life without whatever product the program is trying to sell you. For instance, an advertisement trying to sell an electric kitchen buzz-saw will show (usually in black and white to increase the depressing effect) some poor soul attempting to cut through a 7-decker club sandwich with a regular knife, showing the sandwich getting squished and all the innards falling out. Or the commercial for amazing 10-second abdominal work-out machine that will show a slightly chubby and sweaty person in the gym pulling the hell out of his neck trying to do regular sit-ups and then collapsing on the floor in an frustration-induced frenzy. Although I can understand intellectually why these dramatizations are ridiculous and irrational (who makes 7-decker sandwiches?), I find myself being drawn in every single time. Don't you?

And then I realized, that's what it is. That's why these things are so satisfying: Because they are designed to convince you you have a problem and then offer you a simple solution for it. This might sound simplistic and obvious, but I think it is quite powerful. Because I spend most of my day every day trying to solve problems: big and small, professional and personal, social and systematic. And these problems don't always have solutions that are attainable. But in the world of infomercial, all is well. The ads offer me a problem that I can have with a ready-made solution. And that is sooooo appealing on some level: a solution you don't have to go looking for. I'm ready to be convinced! I find, in fact, that I almost will myself to be drawn in by some of these things, just so I'll feel like something got solved. "Yes," I think, "My current vaccum cleaner cannot even suck up marbles or small rodents. What a problem! I wonder if there is any quick solution that could be mine for only 3 payments of $39.99????." Or, "What if I were to want to make a 7-decker club sandwich and then decide that I wanted to cut it in half. I couldn't even do it! What a problem! What's a bloggirl to do?" Or even better, "You're right. I am having trouble getting fit. And I know it can't be because of all the dip were eating. I wonder if there is any special tool that could help me get in shape that would only take 10 seconds per day and not require any lifestyle changes."

Now that I'm onto this revelation (divinely inspired? possibly), I think I'll continue to enjoy these infomercials even more, letting myself be swept off my feet by the idea that all of life could be solved, possibly by an infared, countertop, convection cooking oven.