Oprah: Don't Read This

It pains me to write this. I know that by writing this, more than likely, I will forgo my chances of becoming a title in the Oprah Book Club; essentially throwing in the towel to the exclusive coalition dominated by mostly housewives that swallow whatever Oprah puts in their mouths. Nothing against this type of demographic, but you can't help but to think that the leader of daytime television is also leading some sort of Stepford wives organization.

This coveted reading register has become almost as sought after by authors as the New York TimesBestselling List. Oprah has the Midas touch and I have books (much less, essays) to push, so I'll tread lightly.

Having no money (and basically no prospects) I had no engagements nor real responsibilities to attend to during the day, therefore becoming an avid watcher of The Oprah Winfrey Show. It was the only thing on during that time slot! At first it perplexed me how one person had single-handedly dominated an hour within the Monday through Friday timetable; soon enough I too started swallowing whatever Oprah was cooking up. It was an hour I looked forward to each business day. An hour I had withdrawals from on the weekends. She was as good as the recreational drugs that I couldn't afford at the time. Like clockwork , everyday after therapy (and by 'therapy' I mean 'watching Dr. Phil between 3 and 4 p.m.') I would make sure my presence was fixed in front of the television for Oprah.

I started off watching with a very cynical outlook, you can't help not to. The first 15 minutes of every show was Oprah doing what I like to call the "Oprah Holler" (you know what I'm talking about) while she tried to stifle the audience, who basically had full-on seizures the moment they caught sight of the Daytime Queen.

It was entertaining to watch Oprah in all her Oprah-glory. It was as if Your Royal Highness was visiting with the commoners everyday right before your local news. She may not have a Royal title, but was certainly treated as such. I liked catching Oprah trying to keep the "huddled masses" at bay, while still trying to look excited and polite. The biggest tactic she used was what I heard Kathy Griffin refer to it as the "Oprah Hug." When regular guests (commoners) appeared on her show (because everybody has a story) most tried to hug Oprah, because who wouldn't when you've come this far, right? But instead of engaging in the hug, Oprah would grab the hands of the hugger before they were capable of wrapping their arms completely around her body and she would raise their hands to eye level while shaking them in "excitement." All while doing an Oprah Holler, "AH-MAAAAZINGG!!!!!"

However, my favorite Oprah-ism is one she used on every single promotion her show released since she became a household name, "This will change your life." It didn't matter if special guest Tom Hanks was there or if Oprah was visiting a polygamist ranch, "This will change your life." A simple phrase that had such a huge and ambiguous meaning (which is why we tuned in).

I started using the phrase in my everyday. It quickly replaced, "THIS IS NOT A DRILL," when I wanted to stress urgency on a matter that wasn't even really that important, only to me.

I brought this up at a friend's dinner party. "If every episode of Oprah's show 'changes your life' then why don't we see more of her viewers out there changing the world or writing books about how their lives have changed?" I said. "Oprah could sit down and take a big giant crap on stage with middle-aged women in the audience giving themselves aneurysms by screaming their heads off and she would promote the show, 'THIS WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!'"

Little did I know that a few weeks after that Oprah would certainly change my life forever. Finally her mantra has caught up with me in every meaning of the phrase. It was the day Oprah pooped on her own TV show.

To clarify, there was no toilet on stage with a medical changing screen in front of it and we never ever saw Oprah in a bathroom. She simply did the deed in her own privacy and showed a picture of her excrement to Dr. Oz. It was one of those episodes where Dr. Oz answered questions we're all too embarrassed to ask face-to-face with our own doctors. Mostly Q and A about poop, our nasal cavity, and ear wax. Now, we never saw the actual photo of the alleged sanctifiable shit, but Dr. Oz said her waste looked perfectly normal and that all poop should be in an 'S' shape (my poop's normal, is yours?). All lack of evidence to the contrary, it still counted! Oprah did basically poop on her show, subsequently changing my life forever. Maybe not in the way that Ms. Winfrey had intended, but I was certainly never going to be the same again. It was something so out there and beyond Oprah's "highness" to actually do, and she did it. It was as if she overheard my conversation at that dinner party and made the show specifically for me. To change my life.

I grabbed my phone faster than I would remove my hand from a hot burner. I called everyone in my directory until someone with no job, nor prospects like myself answered. I gave all the details to my friend Darcy who didn't believe me at first. In fact, everyone I texted didn't believe me, but it was only a matter of time before it too shook their lives up harder than an Oprah Hug.

It was almost a year later, and Oprah's show was coming to an end...and I was still ardently watching. The producers decided to throw Oprah a huge concert chop-full of A-listers celebrating Oprah's legacy while giving her show a fond farewell. I remember Dr. Oz making a cameo in Rosie O'Donnell's musical number and he mentioned the 'S' shaped poop picture. This was a perfect good-bye to the show I so frequently watched, but never really understood why. The Oprah Winfrey Show couldn't officially rap up without actually changing my life, and that it definitely had.