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Digital Slob Curt Brandao |
Don’t let Marthamania
ruin your life
Sometimes a news event, by default, proves that the Digital Slob way of life represents all that is true and good and right in the world, but gloating about it never wears well.
Therefore, as Martha Stewart, the Czarina of Respectable People, hoists herself on her own monogrammed petard, prison-bound for lying to the feds for sport, a nation of homemaking conscientious objectors (Digital Slobs) should probably take the high road as we sit in our underwear watching her on CourtTV.
For those who choose to accent their homes with Taco Bell cups instead of throw pillows, Stewart's saga should serve as a stay-the-course cautionary tale -- one that begins with Martha making hospital corners in a Victorian villa and ends with her getting short-sheeted by a 300-pound roommate named "Butch" in a federal correctional facility.
Some might think that her black belt in homemaking is unrelated to her legal troubles, but Slobs instinctively know such a "lifestyle choice" is doomed. Those with children should use this tragedy as an educational experience, pointing to Stewart as she mops prison floors in an over-starched khaki jumpsuit and telling their young ones, "See, honey, that's what happens when you think your linen closet has to be more organized than the Library of Congress."
Perfectionism has its place --quantum mechanics, national spelling bees, Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issues -- but all are a minimum safe distance from the real world. Out here in the ironic three dimensions, anyone who arrogantly tries to exterminate Murphy's Law from every crevice of their life ends up chasing their own tail, in Martha's case right into the clink.
As most of our undershirts illustrate, Slobs have long understood that trying to plug every hole is a fool's errand. When our spouses buy clothes, for example, Slobs foresee a tidal wave of woe. Soon, we'll need new clothes, too, just to keep pace. Suddenly, the dry-cleaning bill doubles. Not to mention the pricier restaurants, with the extra tip money for the valet and the coat-checker.
Thus, many Slobs believe there's more money in staying poor. Soon, they'll point to a former tycoon who's sharing a toilet and making 12 cents an hour to underscore their argument.
While Slobs seem genetically immune to Martha's "obsessive-order disorder," some Respectable People may be closer to her hand-varnished slippery slope than they think. Actually, most Slobs will tell you anyone past 10 still making handcrafts must have maternal-approval issues worthy of Norman Bates.
But since Respectable People call Slob utensils plastic silverware, and we call theirs silver plasticware; since they wash dishes and we wad ours up and throw them away; since they have unused guest soap in their second bathroom, and we have used guest soap in our only bathroom that we stole from their second bathroom, we rarely get invited back into their homes to spot-check their Marthamania.
But often just hitching a ride can tell the tale. If you get chauffeured by a Respectable Person who uses plastic car mats to keep his factory-installed mats clean, you're riding shotgun with someone on the fast track to Stewartville. But if so, don't taunt them into a logic trap by saying, "But your floor mats' floor mats are dirty. Shouldn't you have floor mats for your floor mats' floor mats?" unless you're prepared for a frantic sidetrip back to Pep Boys.
If that happens, take the bus home, because soon the feds will likely be rounding up your buddy as well.
Curt Brandao is the Star-Bulletin's production editor. Reach him at: cbrandao@starbulletin.com