Local Man Applauds Home Improvement TV Shows
November 3, 2003. In an impromptu interview earlier today, former WorldCom employee Ayam Skrood offered warm praise for the plethora of home improvement shows now populating the airwaves on cable television channels like Home and Garden Television (HGTV), The Learning Channel (TLC), the Discovery Channel (DSC), and others.
“Back when I was a highly paid information technology executive for WorldCom, I had an $834,000 home, two SUVs—a Lexus and a Mercedez—a BMW convertible, and a jumbotron flat screen TV in every room of the house. We got every cable channel you could shake a stick at—we paid over $200 a month for it, but it was worth every penny, except when it was pixelating and dropping out and all that stuff. Come to think of it, that was pretty normal—par for the course. But we didn’t care. I mean, when you’re pulling in a six-figure salary, why not live a little large? Why not dress in designer clothes? Heck, I even wore designer socks and underwear. My whole family did. It was great—those were really good times.
“So, like I said, we had every cable channel under the sun, and we were all hopelessly addicted. As soon as Patsy and Bob would come home from private school, they’d run to their rooms and flip on their TVs and just bask in that built-in surround sound. Bob was real into anime on the Cartoon Channel, and Patsy was hooked on Tech TV—just like her dad, I guess. But Mary and I were hooked on all the home shows on HGTV and TLC. There was ‘Trading Spaces’ and ‘Designers’ Challenge’ and ‘Decorating Cents’ and all sorts of shows showing you how to redecorate a room for $500 or $1000. What suckers, we thought: we never paid a penny less than $10k to have a room done, and that was the basement powder room nobody ever used anyway. And then they have all those ‘Before and After’ shows and ‘This Old House’ shows and Bob Vila shows and ‘Hometime’ and all those shows where they’d tear into someone’s house and actually rebuild parts of it. Those shows were really for suckers—if you can’t afford a brand new, just-built, custom house, then I say ‘Why bother?’ But that never stopped Mary and me from enjoying someone else’s miseries with their own personal money pits. Yes, those were the good old days.”
Mr. Skrood paused momentarily, evidently enjoying his reflections. He resumed, “But then, WorldCom got sucked into the desperate downward spiral of corporate corruption and scandal. All our retirement money went ‘poof’ overnight—the stock wasn’t even worth its own weight in toilet paper. And I and a bunch of other executives in the branch office got our pink slips and our marching orders—27 years of faithful service, and they barely let us even pack up our desks before they booted us out the door without even as much as a ‘how d’ye do,’ let alone a quiet if overdue ‘thank you.’ After my severance ran out, Mary’s salary and my unemployment just weren’t enough to make ends meet. The cable was one of the first things to go—a depressing sign of things to come. The kids had to switch to public school right in the middle of the school year—what a family upheaval that caused. And I just couldn’t keep up with all those payments on our house and our cars, so the banks ultimately foreclosed and repossessed us right out onto the street, after they auctioned off all our designer clothes, our antique reproduction furniture, the Steinway, and everything else down almost to the last toothpick we owned. Well, it was all too much for Mary. The auction was really the worst. I just stood there, too shocked, too stunned, and too dejected even to cry; Mary borrowed a car and drove the kids and herself over to her mother’s—I haven’t seen her since. I met one of my old WorldCom colleagues down at the YMCA about a month ago, and he said that she’s remarried now and living the high life and doesn’t even have to keep a job at all now. And the kids are in an even more expensive private prep school. Well, at least they’re all doing OK for themselves …”
He paused again, frowning. Then, he continued: “So, I’ve really learned my lesson about American culture, pop and otherwise, since that whole WorldCom debacle: everything you read, watch, or hear is all about getting you the worker to spend yourself silly—why save a penny for tomorrow that you can spend today? Can’t afford it? Charge it! Can’t charge it? Then super-size it and charge it anyway! You’re not living the American dream unless you’re in hock up to your eyeballs—unless you’re wallowing in as much debt as the banks will allow. It’s all wonderful until you lose your job and can’t get another one to save your life because the job market is glutted with everyone else who was laid off with similar skills and experience to yours. It’s all great until you realize that you have no paycheck, no prospects, and no savings to fall back on. It’s all fun until you lose your wife and kids and your life is ruined. Then, it’s a hell like no other hell on earth.
“So, I guess that’s why I still really love all those home shows. You bet I watch ‘em every chance I get as I push my three-wheeled shopping cart down the sidewalk past Higbee’s department store window display. You bet I dream of them as I revel in my bi-monthly shower at the nearest YMCA that hasn’t thrown me out for vagrancy yet. You see, not only do those shows remind me of the better times I myself have lived and enjoyed, but they also give me a piquant burst of malicious pleasure because I know that I’m not the only sucker who fell hook, line, and sinker for the spendthrift American dream. It’s a scam. A total, shameless scam. I know there are millions more like me out there, spending those fat paychecks before they even come in, blissfully unaware that the axe will soon fall, leaving them destitute and alone. I know I’m not the last proud but expendable man who’ll end up on the street, homeless, helpless, hungry … never knowing where his next meal will come from or what shame and degradation he’ll have to face to get it …
“Say … is that the time? I really have to be going. It sure was fun chatting with you, but I didn’t mean to go on for so long. Before I go, do you know anyone who’s hiring middle-aged ex-WorldCom IT executives? No? Then, can you spare a dollar or two for a sandwich? No? Well, in that case, I really must dash. You see, my new favorite show is ‘Monster House,’ and it’s just about to come on at the Wal-Mart consumer electronics department …”
