Life sucks. We know.
I’m tired of reading bad news. Enough already. Do you hear that New York Times? Wall Street Journal? MSNBC?
We get it.
This guy? No one looks like this guy. Not on my planet. Hell – I’ve got a laptop in my bed, not some hunka-hunka-sweet-faced manhood with pouty lips and perfect pecks.
The real world?
Our days overflow with costs that outweigh benefits, unfairness that runs rampant, justice that is rarely served, and Lester Thurow was scamming us – there is no “zero sum game.” Just potholes, pitfalls, and a predominance of loss.
More hot news?
Teenagers teeter on the edge of hysteria. (Hormones.) Hottie-mamas overheat. (Hormones.) And there are no Zen getaways in the immediate future! Not for most of us… And then there are the truisms… so many truisms. And damned if they aren’t true.
Here are a few at the top of my list –
- Bad news travels fast. (Yep. Like a bolt of lightning.)
- Little kids, little worries. Big kids, big worries. (Not a tall tale.)
- Being nickeled and dimed to death. (Aren’t we all...)
- Caught between a rock and a hard place. (Which could be interesting, but given the next truism – NOT.)
- All the good men are taken. Or married. Or gay.
Ding, ding, ding, ding!!
Which brings us back to square one. (And what exactly does that mean, anyway?)
The point is – here we are. No bucks, and no bucks. (And I mean no bucks.) You know it’s bad when you’re budgeting to buy a sex toy. At least you can find them now at your local drug store. Well, Rite Aid has a few! (Look between the walkers and the crutches. No kidding.)
But be careful out there. No plugs… well, you know what I mean. No exposed… wires. Outta batteries? No gas in the tank to run to the store? (Damn teens…)
While we’re on the subject – and as an enterprising woman who seeks to inform the public – here’s a classic truism for you: any port in a storm. And that includes USB ports, apparently. This little gizmo (located earlier today) looks like it might turn a bad work day into a more vibrant one… Egg for breakfast, hold the cholesterol?
Okay, okay. Where was I?
Contingencies
Oh right. Life sucks.
Now that we’ve established that, let’s try Plan B. I mean it. This is it – on a trial basis, for all of us. My Big Plan:
No more bad news. A moratorium, 24 hours worth. In its place: The Good News Extravaganza!
Given all that I’ve just enumerated (no hotties, no vay-kays) along with mounting debt and no stress reduction, assorted aches and pains but no dinero for the doctor, graying hair (is it “in” yet?), no designer shoe budget – and no word imminent on the Christian Louboutin Adoption Plan) – why oh why must I read so much bad news every time I open a paper or a home page?
Moratorium
I propose a moratorium on everything bad. Too simplistic?
Alright. If the world can’t stomach a moratorium on torture, war, swindling, governmental posturing, crashes, sinkings, arson, burglary (and Crazy Glue vengeance) – not to mention natural disasters – might the media simply take a day off?
Alternately, report only weird news (great fun – did you see the World Body Painting Festival videos?) or better yet, report only GOOD news. Think about it…
Babies birthed by miracle, Republican rock-climbers rescued on Reality TV. 4-year old musical prodigies who wow audiences in China. Spelling bee champions, lottery winners who share their fortunes (wait… wasn’t that a Nicolas Cage movie?)… Or, the biggie – donuts with NO CALORIES!!
Now that would be REALLY good news.
KRISPY KREME – are you listening? Marketing genius at work here – the zero calorie glazed donut! Forget the zero-sum game – this is better! Not possible? Lie! Just for a day! For the GREAT-NEWS-ALL-DAY Day, okay?
Lest we forget how much we love a tangible gift
Oh – and to promote these new donuts, consider a free giveaway of rose-colored glasses. One pair per customer (minimum purchase – two donuts).
Don’t worry. You can raise your prices for the zero-calorie or low-cal product. It will more than offset the cost. And you’d better ramp up production. U.S., I hope. Good for the economy, and that’s real good news!
More opportunities for philanthropy (and happy Americans)?
Billionaires – your mission, should you choose to accept…
Malcolm Forbes, Bill Gates, Oprah. Yes – I’m speaking directly to you. Pay attention please. I am requesting COLLEGE TUITION for 100,000 students (to start), okay?
Set up a foundation. Several foundations. Write it off! 
(I’ll help you market. I’ll write persuasive proposals, nifty newsletters, catchy copy! Whatever you need… you got it. “Write” up my alley!)
I’ll even help you process the applications for the applications. There will be many, you realize. (Might you put my son’s application for an application somewhere in the top 1,000?)
And since you’re going to be so effective with this undertaking, please assign a brain trust to the challenges of Health Care Reform while you’re at it. I’m all for supporting the government’s efforts, but there are more loopholes in the current proposals than in my grandmother’s knit afghan…
Next, Top Chef Master Contestants…
I do love you – you have class, you play well in groups, you’re exceptionally talented – and I’d like you to give classes – free please.
Just two or three – in some inner city schools. Tour the nation doing so – not so much that you don’t see your families (or run your restaurants and entertain us on television), but along with your other charitable activities, why not encourage our kids to cook?
It’s useful in life, creative and pleasurable; our next generation could learn about nutrition and a potential career!
Hungry again
Damn. I’m hungry. Skipped breakfast again. Talk of donuts. Talk of Top Chef Masters. Picturing all that amazing food… and Hubert Keller… maybe it’s the accent; maybe it was the shower scene…
I do enjoy watching all of you. Really. But gentlemen in particular – you’re hot, hot, hot. Tall men who can cook. What could be better?
Bravo’s Untitled Art Project?
Surprise us all!
BRAVO TV – step up! Don’t embarrass the artists or the producers!
Do it right. I know you can. Andy Cohen – be a mensch – step in… we have enough drama from all those nutty non-housewife housewives. I love ’em, you know it, but this is different.
So, Reality TV-Land, MAN UP!
Help promote the arts in this country! Our lack of support is shameful, when you compare us to other nations. Take the path of classy culture, Top Chef Masters style. It can still pull a great rating and do something that contributes to our cultural future. (I know, I know. You’re out there shaking your heads. Pass the pipe; I’m reaching.)
Jimmy Choo and Christian Louboutin 
Calling all straight men! (I’m taking care of myself and some friends for now, guys… sorry…) Metrosexuals – count yourselves in! Match.com – are you listening?
Educated women would like:
- Jimmy Choo salesmen who speak French and bring their dates samples…
- Professors of Linguistics who give Louboutin 100 millimeter heel pumps to their dates (I’m a 36 European. But you know that already. Foot fetishers welcome; shoe fetishers, encouraged.)
- Tall men who can cook… in any room of the house.
Not possible?
Have I been dipping into the leftover martinis from the Mad Men Marathon?
No. Just wistful. And returning (stubbornly) to my first premise. A single day, without bad news. Or at least, without reporting it. Not online, not in print, not over twitter or text or Facebook. No stumbling, no digging, no friending anything bad.
Verboten. Interdit. 
Give us our tired, our poor, our dejected – and punch up our flagging emotional resources! We’d like to feel good about acts of kindness, global generosity, college for kids. (And that 100,000 scholarships really was just to start…)
Affordable health care. Work, for those of us who want to earn our keep. No more violence. No despair.
Still not possible?
Then it’s back to my Krispy Kremes however fabulous and fattening, my hard-won gray hair, worrying over my teens, kissing my last pennies goodbye on the basics, persevering with the laundry “performance art,” the job boards, the dirty dishes…
I’ll rejoice in my laugh lines, my happy, incontinent dog, my exhausting and remarkable sons, and I won’t give up my dreams. Period.
Call me crazy, but what are we without dreams?
And tomorrow morning, I’ll make time for breakfast. Maybe an egg.
great post! you put out such hot vibes….something good is due to come your way