Friday, June 02, 2006

Tapped Out

Bloggers know you don’t write about work on your blog. But isn’t that weird? We are ready to talk about our personal lives to an extraordinary, sometimes graphic extent, and yet there are 8 hours of our day that we don’t cover. Sex is fine. Work stories are not. Even if the story is really, really good (I can, however, share it with you over drinks).

I’m just freaked out in general, lately. I spend my days obtaining clearances to film for a "get out of debt" reality show. This involves a lot of schmoozing with Corporate Affairs Departments. I know exactly what they want to hear. If I slap on the right mask and push the buttons the right way, the robot will spit out a “pass go” ticket and we can go shoot our little purchasing scene in their childrens’ toy department.

The funny thing is, I'm sucking up to coporations who sort of indirectly got these families into their hellish situation in the first place. I have to downplay the fact that we will be advising these families to TOSS THE CARDS AND STOP THE SHOPPING. So I'm really asking to film at the scene of the crime. The process freakin’ creeps me out. Oh, I know - these places aren't forcing us to spend-spend-spend, right? Whatever, even if it's a world of our own creation, it's taking over.

I don't want to preach, you've heard it before, I know. I'm even a cliche. You know what? I really want to go out and buy all sorts of things that will make me feel good. I would follow that up with an overpriced meal, order a bottle of wine, maybe rent a car and get out of the city for the weekend. Oh, it's so tempting. I had a tough week. I have enough credit.... I deserve it, right?

Ha, I tricked you because, see, I don't give up! OUT OF DEBT IN THREE YEARS is my mantra and I mean it. I will feel that freedom. Oh, you say, debt doesn't own you. It's just money. Yeah right. The show I'm working on is the show of last resort. These people are breaking up over debt. Divorce over of a sofa they bought at 30.76 % interest and still haven't paid off five years later. Thousands of dollars gone, unaccounted for. Where did it all go? None of them know. All that's left are the numbers, a debt that lingers, clings, and now defines.


In other news that makes me feel like our world is choking on itself, Jamie Oliver did this bit last night where he showed school kids various different kinds of vegetables – leeks, rhubarb, asparagus. None of the kids knew what the vegetables were but they were screaming “M@cDon@lds” before he so much as turned over the image of the golden arches. They could see it through the paper.

Well shit.

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2 comments:

Blogger Naomi ~ 3:53 PM

Dan thinks some philanthropist needs to pay for TV ads introducing vegetables to children. Not sponsored by the Dairy Council.

How will we teach Vincent to cope with this? And keep him away from it until he can?  


Blogger Working From Home Today ~ 10:53 PM

Well, if I'm in any position to give advice (and I'm not, seeing as I had a Big M@c for supper tonight), I wouldn't outright forbid the stuff. Forbidding it just turns it into the Holy Grail, eaten out of spite by a rebelious teenager (how was I not fat at that age?). It's always the case that if it's no big deal, you're more open to seeing it for what it is - really poorly made food (if it can be called that).  


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