I’m a Hater, Not a Lover
I was re-reminded by the recent New York Times article “Being Rachael Ray: How Cool is That?” (which will likely be gone in a few days) that there are two kinds of people in this world: the Rachael Ray lovers (actually, I’m having a tough time finding any proper fan sites whatsoever) and the haters. No in-betweens. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I hate the woman because I’m more mature than that (hate the game, not the playa? What sick game is this anyway?) but yeah, she’s painful to watch.
The last Portland visit where I had conversations with both of my parents, Christmas ’03, Rachael Ray’s name came up totally unprompted. Out of the blue my mom started in on how she couldn’t stand the giggly TV personality. Agreed. She loathes the general population, perhaps even more than I do.
Later that afternoon, I stopped by my dad’s house to be a good daughter, and in an equally unsolicited manner he brought up how great Rachel Ray was. I held my tongue since his middling taste wasn’t exactly news to me, and we had the kind of relationship where it was easier to simply go along rather than create conflict and have to explain why something is so bad. However, if my mom brings up her fondness for things like The View (to be fair, she’s finally given up on The View and now tapes Ellen—at least it’s not Oprah) or The Kite Runner, I will not hold back.
During this holiday vacation, I also discovered that both parents seemed to have a propensity for watching westerns, which I’d never been aware of previously. My dad even went as far as claiming that his new bratty Maltese puppy (purchased to keep him company during an unwelcome early retirement) Bianca (odd name choice, considering that years ago I’d been told that was the original name picked for me. How I ultimately ended up with the considerably more mundane Krista, is beyond me), enjoyed westerns. Let me guess, Bianca’s a Rachael Ray fanatic too?
It’s baffling to me how a Rachael Ray lover and a Rachael Ray hater could be married for twenty years. Could “staying together for the children” really trump such fundamental differences? I don’t think I would ever be able to weather a long or short term relationship, knowing that my significant other had no issues with the relentlessly upbeat or asininely cheery.
My oversimplified criteria for deciding if a guy is worth your time or not has always been: 1. Do they make you laugh? 2. Do you want to touch them? Now, I’ll have to add 3. Do they see anything wrong with a dish called boo-sotto? (it’s not for Halloween) to the list.