Dear Santa, I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicker-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply. I want to slap Martha Stewart.
Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or
anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I
get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just
for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer
vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all.
Those of us leading average, garden-variety lives aren't concerned
with gracious living. We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper
plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner.
We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock
dipped in 18-carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold, unless it's
of the furniture polish variety.
We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with
turmeric. Most of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out what
to do with it.
OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet
with all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with Martha in
last week's USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough room on the
page for her ego.
We discovered that not only does Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's
only ordered it once), she refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is
Martha Stewart Living? When it was pointed out that she could microwave
it, she replied, "I don't have a microwave." The reporter, Jeffrey
Zaslow, noted that she said this "in a tone that suggests you shouldn't
either." Well, lah-dee-dah. Imagine that, Santa! That lovely
microwave you brought me years ago, in which I've learned to make
complicated dishes like popcorn and hot chocolate, has been declared
undesirable by Queen Martha. What next? The coffee maker?
In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes
adorning an entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell
"overkill"? And neatly put away, no less. If my dishes make it to the
dishwasher, that qualifies as "put > away" in my house!
Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for
friends. "Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone,"
she boasts. Not just scarves, mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's
obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back. In
fact, she does so with such frequency that one has to wonder if her back
is black and blue.
She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is glamour for the 90s," and
says her most glamorous friends are "interested in stain removal, how to
iron a monogram, and how to fold a towel." I have one piece of advice,
Martha: "Get new friends."
Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past the Greek
Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets. They step
out for the evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked away by tuxedoed
chauffeurs. They do not spend their days pondering the finer art of
toilet bowl sanitation. Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of
America's 25 most influential people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother
Theresa, Madeline Albright and Maya Angelou, no doubt). The proof of
Martha's influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches in the
supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant, they
were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a bridge.
A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to
rollerblade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for breakfast.
This confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along: She's
obviously got too much time on her hands. Teaching the dogs to
rollerblade. What a show off.
If you think the dogs are spoiled, listen to how Martha treats her
friends: She gave one friend all 272 books from the Knopf Everyman
Library. It didn't cost much. Pocket change, really. Just $5,000, but
what price friendship, right?
When asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy
me. I'm doing this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy
teachers. You should listen to them." Zaslow must have split a seam in
Martha's ego at this point, because once the hot air came hissing out,
it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever is nothing
despicable. It is only admirable."
"Never lower your standards," says Martha. And of her Web Page on
the Internet, Martha declared herself an "important presence" as she
graciously helps people organize their sad, tacky little lives.
There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a
good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this
year. You probably want to smack her yourself.