If the people at ABC cannot figure out that I was born to be the Good Morning America 21st Century Advice Guru, I will need to find another job. I recently discussed the perils of shopping for blue jeans and posed this question. Who is responsible for taking a perfectly good, brand-new pair of blue jeans and ripping them to shreds? Every single time I see one of these $100-a-pop, ripped pairs of blue jeans displayed at some upscale department store, I am intrigued by the notion that getting them to look that way is a conscious and deliberate undertaking. I can’t let go of the absurdity of the idea that it is some person’s job to do this. It baffles me. I mean seriously, are there really people whose career objectives are to fashionably shred blue jeans? Is there some nationwide talent search being mounted expressly to find the 21st Century Blue Jeans Shredding Guru? If so, hopefully it isn’t taking as long as GMA’s advice guru search, but hey, it’s not likely they’re going to get 15,000 applicants for that job. Even though my odds are better, clearly, I’m just not “cut out” (snicker, snicker) for slicing up perfectly good, brand-new blue jeans. Anyway the shredding probably takes place in some sweat factory where little boys with Swiss army knives are let loose to run wild in a room full of blue jeans. They probably work for free. I guess I’ll keep looking.
Here’s another job that has piqued my curiosity for years, or at least since I quit biting my fingernails. I’m not sure what the exact job title is, probably, “Nail Polish Color Namer,” or something along those lines. Anyhow, that has to be a real honest to goodness job. Have you seen some of those names? I was shopping online the other day for some clear nail polish. I felt like I was being held captive in a 1960’s episode of The Twilight Zone. I could not identify the color of a single polish by its name. Take this one, for example. Are you ready? Masquerade Belle. What the heck color is Masquerade Belle? Fortunately, I discovered that if I clicked on the color name, a photo of the bottle popped up along with a description of the product. “Masquerade Belle: Fascinating, mysterious and seductive, this black ruby sparks the imagination and inspires intense devotion.” (http://www.essieshop.com) Well I’ll be darned. I had no idea the simple act of having a manicure could “spark the imagination.” I’ll have to keep that in mind next time I’m struggling with writer’s block. By the way, what do you think black ruby is? Would that be red or black, or perhaps blackish-red or reddish-black? Sheesh. One thing is for sure. It ain’t clear.
Here’s another one: Going Incognito. Really? “Going Incognito: Your identity may be secret, but your style and panache are impossible to conceal with this deep emerald green.” (http://www.essieshop.com) AHA! So it’s green. Huh. Interesting. If I were traipsing around town trying to be all incognito, the last thing I’d do would be to paint my fingernails green. As a matter of fact, even if I was going around being conspicuous, I wouldn’t paint them green. Green just doesn’t belong on a woman’s fingernails, unless she hails from the land of Oz. That’s just my opinion. All I wanted was some clear nail polish, for goodness sake. The whole experience made me downright cranky. Finally I found it: Good to Go. That name actually makes sense for a quick drying, clear topcoat. If I was a nail polish color namer, I’d come up with a creative, yet logical name like Good to Go. Hmmm. I could really sink my teeth into naming nail polish colors. I could revolutionize the whole nail polish color naming industry. Don’t get me started.
Anyway, while I think I could be a decent nail polish color namer, the blueness of my parachute (see yesterday’s post if this reference confuses you) indicates I’m destined to excel at something completely different: counselor, teacher, social worker and journalist. Hellooo… We all agree that I was born to be the Good Morning America 21st Century Advice Guru. You know it. I know it. Richard Bolles knows it. The question is: When is somebody from ABC going to figure it out and call me? I wish I knew. I wish I knew. Until then, I guess I’ll stick with writing about the simple things that happen in the course of my ordinary life. I suppose I shouldn’t allow myself to get swept up in this advice guru fantasy. I can’t forget my real agenda. Maybe, just maybe, some ABC executive will happen upon Just Another Ordinary Day, find it interesting, and think to himself, ‘Hmmm. Having an ordinary person on the show might be good for ratings.’ In which case, this ordinary (unemployed) woman just might be given the very extraordinary chance to dance among the stars.
Till tomorrow… Good night. Sleep tight.