Arthro-Pilates and Lupus





Shopping on Television

Shopping, shopping and more shopping. I must admit, I love it!

But in 2005 it has become much too accessible. There used to be a day when you would have to bundle up, endure stormy weather conditions, get in the car and drive to your local store to purchase the latest and greatest in everything.  Well, those times have come and gone! These days it’s all at our fingertips and it’s addictive! The term “shop till you drop” is no longer applicable. It’s more like “make a cup of coffee stay in your pajamas and turn on the television.”

“Infomercial”, a term coined in the 1990’s, and channels dedicated to shopping 24 hours a day have taken over the airwaves, and I am hooked. Hard core sales routines from Stepford-like on air personalities who act like Martha Stewart doing speed and deceptive lighting that make everything appear wonderful have me and many others convinced that in order to lead a better life we must have the item that they are selling.  Just a quick call, and a handing over of your credit card number will get you the article of your dreams and the buy of a lifetime. Or so we are told!

The thing about shopping from television is, once you get the item at home, it’s a pain in the neck to send it back. More often than not, and in a state of buyer’s remorse, I am left staring at my latest acquisition, muttering, “What on earth was I thinking”?  My impulse purchases have ranged from the merely useless items to the ones that have bordered on the bizarre. I have bought fake diamonds that wouldn’t fool a blind man, faux fur that ended up looking like my neighbors cat, self help programs that don’t help, a suction like device designed to create “Angelina Jolie” lips, which failed to do so and left me with a big red hickey around my mouth, a heart rate watch which I don’t need and only serves to tell me that I am still alive, and exercise equipment that claimed “no assembly required”.  As I poured the twenty-five pieces of steel, designed to shed unwanted pounds, from the box, onto my floor, I realized, that I’d been had!  One hour later, and amazingly without a degree in aerodynamics, I finally had it assembled, minus the left-over screw that still sits in the bottom of my “one day I’ll need it” drawer.  As the sweat poured off my body, I took the opportunity to grab that new watch and monitor my heart rate. Not surprisingly, it was up to an all time high, the equivalent of a fast run for 45 minutes on the treadmill. I’ve never had such a good workout! It’s now become clear that I never have to actually “use” this masterful piece of engineering genius to lose the weight. I merely have to assemble and disassemble it. ! It forever sits in the corner of my bedroom, too cumbersome to be moved despite more false claims that it is “easily” foldable for storage, and has now become a clothing rack.

But on a positive note at least I found a purpose for the heart rate watch! In response to my “bad habit”, my friends and family have now banned me from purchasing items via the television.  But that’s fine with me. After all, they never said anything about shopping on the Internet!


©Lori Weisbrod


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