Holiday: Dear Santa #2

Dear Santa, I rarely ask for mu

Holiday: Dear Santa #2





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. ow, 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

Allbright 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.