Ron Popeil, creater of the Ronco line of better living, is a genius. For the last forty years, this late night hawker of gadgets and doodads has been convincing the average American couch potato that life would be just a little bit easier to get through with a handy Veg-O-Matic, Mr. Microphone, dehydrator, or smokeless ashtray. Personally, I don't know what I'd be doing today if I hadn't bought that picklizer in 1979. Since then, I've been producing my own homemade pickles. Pickles, I might add, that won me the Blue Ribbon at last year's Great Pickle Off in Madison, Wisconsin. And to think that Mrs. Calvendish thought that she had me beat with that cheap Walmart throw away that she used. The naive woman!
Lately, I've been catching Popeil's act on QVC. Dressed in a daper sweatsuit or a comfortable yet charming apron, Popeil has been pushing his amazying hair in a can and pasta/sausage maker among other goodies. "It's ah--may-zing," he shouts, and I believe him. "Send me a dozen," I scream into the phone. "No, make that two dozen. My dear mother in Al-asaba could use a few of those pasta makers." It is only later, after hours of shopping frenzy and emotional upheaval, that I realize that not only will these doohickies prove useless in the baren desert of Sudan, but that my dear mother has never even seen pasta.
It doesn't matter. Popeil is right anyway: These items "Really do make great gifts!" In our society here in the great wild, wild, cosmopolitan innocence of America, gift giving is tradition. It acompanies every major and minor holiday from Christmas to Groundhog Day. Who cares if you need it? Who cares if you use it? A dehydrator is amazing. If the occasion ever sees fit, you can pull that baby out and dehydrate some fish, a piece of cheese, a red pepper, cooked rice, whatever your heart desires.
Alas, the Popeil infomercial kingdom might be nearing its fatal end. Popeil is selling the empire for a reported $25 million. And when he's gone, will home shopping be the same? Or will it fade away into TV legendary like "My Three Sons" and "Wild, Wild, West," stories of the "good ole days" when food processing was understood, when slicing and dicing were carefully explained to the ignorant kitchen savages that some of us are. I shudder to think about it. Will we be barbarian shoppers again? Don't go, Ron Popeil. Keep the faith. We need you like we need Messiahs. I think I'm going to make some dinner. Where the hell did I put that Chop O Matic?