Alright, I need a little help solving this one: When (and WHY) did the most popular cooking channel in America decide that its target audience consists of people over the age of 50 (which I’m not)? There I was, curled up with my lap-top, watching a little food TV, when my eyes were suddenly assaulted by geriatric advertisements: There were AARP-endorsed beverages that delay muscle loss so you don’t get “soft”; pills to enhance memory retention so we don’t forget where we live; and ergonomic beds so your feet don’t swell during the night (i.e. elimination of the frightening “cankle” issue). “Seriously?” I thought, “Who are these marketing people and why don’t they want me to be hungry?”

Then, as if to add insult to injury (As only the big networks can get away with) the voice in the TV says: “Up next… Jaime at Home: Wild Game!” 

Oh wait–now I get it; hot, young chef, post-menopausal women, insinuation of a “hunt.” Still not catching on? Here, I’ll translate advertisement-ese for you: “Alright, Cougars–grab your spanks because Jaime’s sizzlin’ today!” Sneaky, marketing people.

I absolutely abhor getting older and no one can tell me differently. My feet hurt, I’m tired a lot, I sometimes fall asleep in my chair….

Disembodied voice: Hey! Hold on a minute! 

Me:  Um, who are you and what are you doing in my head? 

Voice: I’m you, you stupid git (must be channeling a bit of that Jaime Oliver accent). 

Me: Well, if we intend to continue conversing in this manner, let’s make it official, shall we?

Voice (Other Me): Of course. And what do you suppose my name should be?

Me: Um, Happy Heidi?

Happy Heidi:  Perfect! Now, get up and make me a cocktail!

Me:  Oh, right, it’s nearly 3:00 p.m. on Sunday. I wonder if that oversight might be contributing to my lament?

Happy Heidi: Of course it is. Now turn that show back on, Jaime’s in Greece making Wicked Kebabs!

Me:  Yes, he’s waxing poetic about the Parthenon which is built upon the famed Acropolis of Athens. Only problem is he can’t seem to illicit its date of origin (447 BC) or the name of the antique grill he’s using to cook his Suvlaki…and

Happy Heidi: Back up sister! You didn’t know the date of Parthenon’s erection (giggle) and you still haven’t figured out the name of the grill thingy. I heard you ask Dave and then go look it up, cheater. 

Me:  Shhhhh – who do you think you are?

Happy Heidi: Are you kidding me?  I’m the one that pushes you out the door on Thursdays to meet the folks behind the scenes – to come to know them, eat, imbibe, and learn. I’m that girl who makes you exercise so you can enjoy really great food (sans cankles); who reaches out to people you’ve never met before to find a new friend. I’m the young woman who lies in your heart. You know, the one who sings at the drop of a hat, points and jumps when you taste (or drink) something extraordinary, and loves her job!  You know, I’m kind of bored with this and you seem distracted, maybe I’ll just leave…

Me: No wait, I’m sorry–don’t leave! I just got all hyped up watching Jaime doing things I did many moons ago but not on TV!

Happy Heidi: I’m assuming they’re PG-13? Even my reputation has limits.

Me: Sicko!  No, it’s just that you know when you did something really cool and have forgotten just how exciting it all was?  Your friends and family lived vicariously through your breathless long distance phone calls from Gibraltar and framed that picture of you and your friends, grilling fresh fish over an open flame on the beach, the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean as a backdrop; some fresh sliced mango, a bottle of Pine Nut wine and a crayola colored boat.  I guess I’m glad I suffered the advertisements – I feel pretty good!

Happy Heidi: That’s my girl!  Now go make me that drink and tell me what’s for dinner.

Me:  OK, and thanks for that little boost – you can be quite nice when you want to be.

Happy Heidi: Pssst! She’s gone…Geez, I hope she has Grey Goose. Anyway, just so you know, I didn’t find any Ensure, “Blue Pills,” or an Elevated Mattress in here, but maybe they’re in the shed with the Reader’s Digests and the cats.