If you read the prologue, I'm sure you are saying to yourself, "Wow, this guy is really being too hard on Martha! Doesn't he worry about hurting her feelings?" In a certain sense, you are right. Martha is just like the rest of us. She has plenty of problems that make her sad. A perfect example of the traumatic and painful life she leads is found in her February 1997 issue of Living. For a window on the tortured soul of Martha Stewart, let's take a look at the "Letter from Martha," in that issue (found on page 8) . . .
A reader asks how Martha manages to accomplish so much [i.e., arranging flowers, baking cakes, making bulletin boards out of wine corks, etc.]. Martha assures us that we are all busy, but she wonders why we are so busy. Martha wonders why we are all so busy that we can't bake a cake, or make bread, or paste pictures in a photo album.
What is the root of this evil? Martha has the answer -- the evil is technology, and Martha is the martyr of our technological age. She tells us that she is, ". . . a single human being," who has "six personal fax numbers, fourteen [sic] personal phone numbers, seven car-phone numbers, and two cell-phone numbers (p. 8)." Now we see just how painful it is to be Martha. We can't imagine a more painful life, but it gets much worse. Her cars are, ". . . nightmares of technology, fitted with phones, faxes, video-viewing machines, and more battery chargers." She is right: if your car(s) ever look like hers you should probably find that old bottle of Xanax and sedate yourself into the next millenium. Don't even ask her about the numerous computers, printers, scanners, televisions (sixteen!), washers, or dryers that she must carry as her cross of the affluent. When we add the burden of owning several luxurious homes, I begin to weep in sympathy.
Surely we can all feel Martha's pain by now. The pain of a homeless mother struggling to raise two children simply pales in comparison to Martha's plight. Imagine a conversation between them:
There are only two ways to view this letter: either Martha is offering a thinly-veiled attempt at displaying her opulence, or she really feels that her situation is tragic. Both cases are pathetic. If this sounds too pessimistic, I offer you the glimmer of hope found at the end of her letter. This is Martha's New Year's resolution (still on page 8 - this letter is no epic) -- she would like to ". . . see us settle into a comfortable relationship with technology . . . " Hmmm. Maybe then we could all have a zillion cell phones and fax machines. Every night, I pray that her wish is granted. If god can't save us, perhaps Martha can.
Oh yes, one last question. Just what exactly is that lump of fur she is embracing in the photo at the top of the page?
You should probably go back to my personal page now.