I do not go out of my way to watch Oprah unless there is a topic at hand which really interests me or if she has managed to assemble an array of amazing guest stars on one stage – like the Twelve Apostles, for instance. (She could probably swing that if she really put her mind to it.) For some reason which I haven’t quite untangled. I really wanted to see yesterday’s program where she talks about falling off of the proverbial weight wagon. (She now weighs about 200 pounds, which is apparently about 40 pounds heavier than she wants to be.) I figured it would be compelling television, and I was right- although for a good deal of the time I felt like throwing a brick at the T.V. -not a good idea when the T.V. is scarcely three weeks old.
The show began with some <<Meaningful Television>>, if you know what I mean. It was Oprah sitting on the couch in her lavishly appointed living room (or is it her office?) talking about her weight gain, with poignant music in the background as a soundtrack. We never see an interviewer or hear any questions – because most likely this was just Oprah, saying what she felt compelled to say. And as she spoke, there was this sense that what she was talking about was of overwhelming importance. . . that what she weighs not only matters a lot to her, but probably matters a lot to us as well. And I don’t mean what we weigh – but that what she weighs surely matters a lot to us. And I’m sorry but it simply doesn’t, at least not to me. I liked Oprah and admired her work when she weighed 200+ way back when. . . I liked her the same as she slimmed down . . . and now that she’s up again (and feeling down about it) I like her the same. What I don’t like is her fixation on the matter, out of proportion to what I think it should actually matter. At one point she says that she has accomplished a lot in her life, met extraordinary people, achieved amazing fame and fortune – but that “it doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t fit into your own clothes.” When I first heard those words from her mouth, I was dumbfounded and appalled. . . The thought that our achievements can be rendered inert and meaningless if we’re four dress sizes bigger than we want to be is complete poppycock to me. (If it is true, then I think Oprah should imagine herself saying that to every overweight guest she has ever had on her program. I would hope that her sense of decency and humanity would prevent her from even thinking of saying such a thing to someone else- and in turn she shouldn’t be saying it about herself or to herself – not even in jest.)
The more I think about it, the more I think she was trying to say something else – but this was a case of Oprah’s flair for grand statements getting in the way. I think she was really wanting to say that fame and fortune – both of which she has more of than almost any person on earth – in no way can insulate you from the most basic sorts of insecurity to which people are so prone. We are all fragile and flawed people. The trouble is that I think Oprah struggles so mightily with her flaws when in fact they are such a small part of who she is. And in all the thrashing about she does, we get to be presented with one <<Grand Breakthrough>> after another. First she lost all that weight and squeezed into teeny tiny jeans. Then she gained. But then she figured out how to lose weight so much more wisely. Then she gained. Now guess what? She has really figured out how to do it more wisely, and she wants to let all of us in on the secret.
I guess I wish she were less interested in the big Grand Pronouncements – mostly because we are all individuals, and the thought that any of us can reshape our lives as she has is laughable. She can hire an army of personal trainers and personal chefs- build a well-appointed gym in her own house – or join the most exclusive health club in all of Chicago. (Heck, she could buy the whole place if she so chose.) But that is her and her life. I think the only Grand Pronouncement that should be made on this topic is maybe Eat Less/ Exercise More. . . but when it comes to the particulars, each of us has to figure that out for ourselves and what will work for us. For me, it’s reading books on the treadmill, and eating all of my lunches at Subway and the Soup Depot. But that’s what I could fold into my nutty life, and I would never presume to climb on a soap box and exhort others to do it the same way.
I guess the heart of the matter is this: Oprah’s weight does not matter to me. And the particular way Oprah loses weight matters to me even less. Because every moment she devotes to telling us all about it, in excruciating detail, is a moment she should be devoting to something which really truly matters.