How I Amuse Myself at Work

An actual e-mail that I received at work:

Lauren,

25 years ago the quintessential homemaker was June Cleaver, but today it could very well be Bobby Flay—a fact that seems obvious in today’s gender blurred generation (check out your local grocer over the weekend: over 40% of its shoppers are men buying cooking or cleaning supplies).

So why aren’t household brands marketing to men? A special report in Adweek examines the issues and facts. Among the highlights:

· A A recent survey found men neck-and-neck with women in purchasing household items including cleaning products, home décor, child-care products and cooking utilities.

.......Wonkity wonkwonk blaghier sdkhaohf;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Don't worry readers! I wouldn't really make you read the whole thing! Instead, I'll break it down into bite-size bits of rancor (Ranc-os! Like a fun snack!), just for you:

"25 years ago the quintessential homemaker was June Cleaver, but today it could very well be Bobby Flay..."

Holy hell! Mentioning Bobby Flay in the very first sentence? Janice (I've decided that's the PR person's name), why would you do that to me? Personal biases aside, I don't think anyone EVER has thought, "Oh, Bobby Flay -- that's a freakin' great homemaker guy." Alton Brown, perhaps, but Grilly McSmug over there, I think not.

"today’s gender blurred generation"

Jan, I don't even know what this means.

"companies tend to eschew marketing to men"

I just wanted to point out here that Jan used the word "eschew." Someone's been using her SAT prep flashcards...

"testosterone appealing aspects: emphasizing size, power and length – even for vacuum cleaners or cooking utensils."

Heh. Phallic references. Fine, Jan, I'll forgive the Flay reference -- I'm kind of enjoying this.

"In a 2007 survey on relationships, participants rated 'sharing household chores' as a top priority for a healthy couple, with only 'faithfulness' and 'a happy sexual relationship' ranking above."

Annnnd I totally take that back. Not enjoyable. Are you kidding me, Jan? Priorities = 1) security, 2) orgasms and 3) only vacuuming half the time?

"The days of froufrou sheets and frilly pillowcases are gone..."

Hi. I'm a woman. I enjoy ruffly things, the color pink, and being repressed -- just like all you other lady people out there!

"Former New York Times media writer Andrew Adam Newman presents new data..."

And she ends it with a zinger. The Times? Seriously, Janice? Did you just build a little window into my brain, see everything I loathe and create a press release around it for your own amusement? We are done, Jan -- done.

News Update, corrected

So I may have been a little hasty in my last posting. Eliot Spitzer (who, among other character flaws, doesn't believe in the wonders of extraneous first-name consonants) may ruin a hell of a lot of things: people's faith in elected officials, his marriage, Lauren Bell's personal time with Alex Trebec, etc. etc., BUT a single man, no matter how rich or powerful or stupid cannot possibly ruin everything. That would be ridiculous. It would take at least 5 of ESpitz and a smattering of other people with similarly ridiculous nicknames (Speidi anyone?) to truly bring about the end of civilization as we know it. 

There are, however, some other unsavory characters vying for the title of "everything-ruiner" -- much to the collective relief of the four horsemen of the apocalypse (let's face it, the waiting game must be getting pretty old for them by now).

One of these responsible and hard-working souls is someone with whom you may be familiar. His name is Chef Bobby Flay. I believe he had the "Chef" legally added as insurance after Rachel Ray beat him on an Iron Chef showdown (thank you, Wikipedia, for that priceless nugget). There's nothing more damaging to your chef reputation that being shown up by the Triscuit Queen.

Everything about this man rubs me the wrong way. And, as if offending me by his very being weren't enough, he manages to smear his personal brand of horrendousness on approximately 19 different Food Network shows, thus making himself inescapable to those of you who, like me, insist on watching only the FN if Jeopardy is not on. 

An illustrative example: "Throw Down."

Are you aware of this atrocity? "Throw Down" is a television program in which Flay, bored with annoying just me, tricks people -- tricks them -- into thinking they are being showcased on the FN (yeah, I'm going to keep calling it that) for their personal recipes: Edna's Texas Chili, etc.

Then, he sits around in the Food Network test kitchen and demands that his soulless minions concoct a better recipe of the same ilk. He shows up to a party full of poor, unsuspecting Edna's family and friends and tells her, "No, I'm not here to honor you. I'm here to potentially humiliate you...THROW DOWN!" He might also say things like "BOO-YAH" and "Oh SNAP" -- he's that awful.

The minions, bearing the specially-prepared recipe, descend upon Edna's party like a plague of locusts. Snooty guest judges sweep in from secret side doors. Giant Mao-esque banners featuring Flay's all-mocking mug unfurl across the kitchen.

Bobby Flay (which I first typed as "Booby Fly." And then I laughed. Because I'm nine years old.), trying to figure out why you do this every week makes my head hurt. Edna has been making her Texas Chili for 97 years, and everyone has already agreed that it is the best. Why must you rob her of her hard-earned mantle of good-cookery? Is it because Rachel Ray stole yours?

Well, I don't care, Flay. What you're doing is just wrong. Write Rachel a nice letter asking for your mantle back. Release your minions from their miserable bondage and stop surprising people. Please, start putting your time towards something productive, and not encouraging the destruction of all goodness. You are upsetting me. You are upsetting Edna. And somehow, I'm sure, Trebek has heard about this and is shedding a single, phoenix-like tear.