2001-02-07 - Afternoon
It came to me in the middle of the night: Martha Stewart looks like Frau Blucher in Young Frankenstein!
Let me explain.
Prior to Buffy/Angel last night my brother, my sister-in-law and I watched Jeopardy. It was one of those Jeopardys where instead of pointy-headed everyday geeks, they have flat-headed celebrities as panelists. Two things about celebs on Jeopardy: one, the questions are a lot dumber, and two, the panelists are dumber still. Alex must want to kick the pluperfect shit out of all of them by show�s end.
Personally, I wanted Charles Barkley to win, because he�s cool to start with and was totally up-front about the fact that he�s about a million times stupider than your average Jeopardy contestant. Jeff Probst (who I liked a lot more when he was just doing Rock �n Roll Jeopardy on VH-1 and hadn�t yet turned into an unctuous turd from hosting Survivor) would have won, except that he missed almost all the pop-music questions, which just proves how much of a dim-bulb he really is.
Then, there was Martha Stewart. It�s a cheap shot to make fun of her these days, I know--her 15 minutes of fame are long over and she�s little more than a not-so-white-trash Kathie Lee Gifford these days--but I�m going to anyway. I still hate her for the Sunday afternoon I spent in the hospital two years ago when there was nothing on TV but golf, "Touched by an Angel," and some show where Martha was forcing these browbeaten and terrified Japanese children to make breakfast trays out of old picture frames.
Back to Jeopardy. My sister-in-law couldn�t stop talking about how awful Martha looked up there--she had on this shiny, icky olive-green blouse that conspired with a heavily caked-on makeup job to drain all the color from her face and all the subcutaneous fat from her cheekbones, too. She looked like Miles Davis dipped in bleach and topped with one of Katherine Harris� drag-queen wigs, and the only time she showed any emotion was to glance right at the camera and give these tight little "I am Death and I am visited upon you" smiles at us, the viewing audience. Shudder.
Needless to say, though, she won, and the charity she was representing (some finishing school/boot camp in New England that spawns dozens of mini-Marthas each year and turns them loose on an unsuspecting world) got $10,000 for her trouble. Um, yay. I think.
But I digress. I spent the whole show staring at her and wondering who or what she reminded me of. Then Buffy/Angel came on, and I forgot about it--until I woke up at 3 a.m. in a cold sweat and had the realization mentioned at the start of this entry. And now I�m sharing it with you. Aren�t you glad?
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