When I moved to Pete’s house, I gave up cable, which had a few PBS stations I truly miss and a whole mess o’ instructional videos I could use whenever I felt like it. The yoga videos were just as good for laughs as for stretching. A very satisfied-looking gentleman smiled a great deal as he conducted class, and I could just hear him as he gazed at his lovely assistant – oh yes, there was gazing – ‘I am a very handsome man, and Suzanne is lissome in unspeakable ways, and we’re going to spend this very afternoon investigating the body dharma here in San Souci. Don’t forget to hold each pose for five breaths.’ I miss that guy.
Pete’s house has the dish, and with it, different channels. The trainwreck I can’t stop watching is called Veria, and it is amazing.
It’s supposed to be programming about healthy living but I’ve noticed that such programs tend to omit just as many important words as they include so I end up with piles of questions. Everyone is starch-white and has a weird smile and speaks slowly. It’s that red flag that hints at a cult, but I don’t get how to connect that signal with what I see, which are excruciatingly serious talk shows about herbal work and alternative medicine and some pretty exciting forms of yoga I’ll have to work up to trying. I mean, what the hell’s going on?
The other day, I rowed for 30 minutes during a show about Dr. Bronner, who I thought all these years was a cult figure. Short answer: sort of. What? The same series profiled the man who created homeopathic medicine. He’s got some nitwit followers who should never venture near a microphone again in support of their guru.
Anyway, what made me think of this was Sunday’s (yes, I am rowing a whole lot) show about brewing herbal extracts and fermented Korean health beverages. I almost fell over when the herbalist said the next preparation involved rum. I surmised from surveying the channel that nobody touched a drop of demon rum. Now I wonder if they’re all just drunk.