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Dear
Santa,
I rarely ask for much.
This year is no
exception. I don't need
diamond earrings, handy
slicer-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 slit 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
declares 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.
Love,
Linda
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