O stands for Oprah.
Now don’t get me wrong, I like Oprah Winfrey. Ever since her Sofia, in 1982, blasted through the film, The Color Purple I’ve liked her. She’s a force, a meteor that keeps circling the earth…over and over and over again. She does great things…gives away lots of money, promotes writers, singers and motivational speakers.
She’s tight with Deepak.
She can make or break someone with one interview.
Oprah can take a book and in one afternoon turn it into a bestseller with merely a nod.
But I have to say, there might be just a little too much O, in O.
I love nothing more than to to lie in bed, chocolates to my left, Chianti to my right while devouring a good, juicy periodical. Girls will be girls after all, and what’s better than a good, mindless magazine?
Who said a man?
It doesn’t bother me that Oprah’s on the cover since I’m so used to seeing her wink and coo from the rack at my drugstore. Her covers are always cheerful, covered with bylines like, Show Your Closet Who’s Boss and Tell Him You Love Him 75 Different Ways, With Arugula.
Oprah will show you how.
I capitulated buying Hershey Kisses and the bright red issue with her in a Gone With The Wind Dress looking like three Scarletts, dashing home to don my PJs to eat up all she had to say.
As I got comfy nestled beneath my quilt, I couldn’t help noticing how many Oprahs appeared on the page…25, give or take, and let me say, for me, was one too many Oprahs.
I asked myself, what’s that about? Why the need of multiple Os? It’s not as if we could ever forget her. I’m actually waiting for Oprah to be added to Mount Rushmore next to Teddy and George. I just don’t quite understand why she needs to be on every other page of her magazine.
I’d like to see more of anybody else.
If I sound critical, good. Ego is something I particularly take umbrage with. Hers is the size of a regulation basketball.
Oh come on, could there be any other explanation?
Oprah, I want you to listen to me….are you listening?
We love you, we do. Like I said earlier, you’re a force upon nature. But we don’t need to see you in the kitchen, the living room and behind the scenes getting sewn into your dress. Is this your way of saying Stedman needs to pay more attention to you? Is he brain dead after all this time? Because if he doesn’t get it by now, I think that ship has sailed.
If I were you I’d enjoy my life more by letting others entertain me for a change.
You’ve done enough, and that red ball gown…may I make a suggestion?