This is something I wrote many years ago. I realized all the time I spent watching travel and food TV shows, I could be going somewhere or creating something. Writing this piece helped motivate me to get up and write my book, Craving Normal. Not only did I finish my book, but I also haven’t watched TV (except for streaming movies and comedy) since.
I prefer to be living life instead of watching others live.
***
In the green room of my brain, just off the frontal lobe, pull back the curtain, and you’ll see two impatient players waiting for their cues: Imagination and Adventure.
Imagination is off in the corner of the green room drinking a glass of Cabernet while drawing on a sketch pad. She’s fidgety, doesn’t like what she’s drawn–tears it up.
Meanwhile, Adventure is huffing and puffing on exercise machines, keeping flexible. She’s got her muscles warm and passport ready.
“Holy crap!” snarls Imagination. “What the hell is she doing now?”
Adventure nods while sweating on the treadmill. “I know. It’s ridiculous! Why is she watching the Food Network again? I mean, come on! Who needs to watch Giada De Laurentiis eating tiramisu in Rome when she could be getting off her ass and traveling to Italy herself? Okay, she can’t afford it. But dream, baby! Make it happen.”
“It’s not as if she can taste the damn food, anyway,” Imagination agrees. “I mean, I’m good, but not that good. Doesn’t she realize if she just used the two of us she could do some of these things herself–make a tiramisu, travel to Rome… something, anything? Yet, here we wait while she watches TV.”
The Conscience, holding a clipboard while wearing a headset, pulls back the curtain to the Green Room. “Five minutes, you two–be ready. I’m trying to get her off the couch. Just stand by.”
Imagination takes a big swig of wine and a long drag on her Gauloises cigarette. “Yeah, right. I heard that an hour ago.”
“Well, I’m burning calories but going nowhere fast,” Adventure huffs.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on her,” Imagination says to Adventure. “At least she’s not watching re-runs of Sex and the City. You can thank me for that. At least I’ve got her imagining things beyond designer shoes and trendy cocktails. Sure, she watches travel and food programs, but that’s because she imagines the places she wants to go and recipes she wants to create.”
“Great. Her passport’s expired and her cookbooks are getting dusty on her bookshelves. Thanks for nothing.” Adventure says, wiping sweat from her brow.
“Please!” Imagination is now seeing red, more than the Cabernet in her glass. “At least I’ve motivated her that far. What about you? Aren’t you the one to blame for her not even exploring as far as her own bookshelf? I’m only as good as the motivation to go along with it.”
The Conscience pops back in. “Okay, Adventure, you’re on in one minute!”
Adventure runs to the sink to wash her face, takes a big gulp of cold water, and stands by the Green Room door for her cue.
“Hey! What about me?!” Imagination asks the Conscience.
“Oh, you’re not needed yet, so keep drawing. But watch the wine drinking. Her thoughts are getting a little loopy.”
“Thoughts? What’s she thinking about? She’s been watching TV for an hour.”
The Conscience answers: “She’s thinking about her grocery list. It’s getting weird. Already, her list includes corned beef hash for shit-on-a-shingle, saltines, and sardines–foods from her childhood, specifically things her dad ate in the Navy. So cool it with the wine, OK?”
Conscience nods over to Adventure. “Okay, go! You’re on!”
As The Conscience and Adventure run down the grooves of the brain, Imagination calls out, “Where’s Adventure going?
Conscience calls back over her shoulder, “Her cats are out of food. I told her it’s time to go to the grocery store!”
Imagination stares at her empty wine glass. Gawd! I’ve got a lot of work to do.
