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Not Such A Good Thingby Dina GanSome see Martha Stewart as the devil. I see her as a harmless Asiaphile. Not only does she often host Asian American chefs and crafters on her show, but she frequently cites the Asian origins of everyday things. Hardly an episode goes by when she’s not waving around her Chinese bamboo-and-wire strainer, a version of which she now sells as part of her Martha Stewart Collection at Macy's. Recently, she even featured the latest Japanese book on "unuseless inventions," otherwise known as chindogu  .Martha Stewart has always been my guilty pleasure. So when my oldest sister got tickets to be in the studio audience of The Martha Stewart Show, I enthusiastically agreed. Since it was December, I thought for sure Martha would be giving away some decent holiday swag. Just the week before, everyone in Martha’s studio audience received a juicer machine probably worth several hundred dollars. 
We took the bus to New York City and arrived at the
Chelsea studio where Martha tapes her show. Some
audience members from the 10:30am taping were leaving
carrying big brown shopping bags. "What’d ya get?” I
asked a woman in a felt coat. She opened her bag to
show two books. "Pop-up books. Nothing much," she
said. "No, that’s cool!” I said with faux enthusiasm,
certain my swag would be better.We were first in line for the 2pm taping but doors didn’t open till 12:30pm, so we took the chance to walk around the neighborhood for an hour and come back. By the time we did, the line stretched halfway down the block. But we were assured a spot in the audience as long as we had the confirmation email my sister received when she requested tickets. Once the doors opened, we were herded to the coat check desk, then to a waiting area where bottled water and chocolate-chip cookies were served. These were the same giant, chewy and delicious cookies developed by Martha’s daughter, Alexis. Little did I know this was the only food I would have for five hours. After 20 minutes, we were given tickets with a color-coded stripe. Then a pudgy man with glasses came around and revealed that the guest for our taping was the director Francis Ford Coppola. This seemed mildly exciting to me. Perhaps he would give everyone in the audience a bottle of wine from his vineyards.v The pudgy man, who I later learned was a show producer named Joey, then taught us the various sounds we would have to make as audience members. These sounds included applause, "yummm,” "oooh,” and "awww,” as signaled by Joey waving his arms, rubbing his stomach, putting his hands on his cheeks, and pretending to cradle a cute baby. Finally we were allowed into the television studio. It was huge, brightly lit and decorated to the hilt with seasonal accessories in the pinks, greens and golds familiar to the Martha viewer. Is it possible to air-brush reality? It seemed so here in Martha’s studio. Before the show began, Joey explained that taping would occur in segments of a few minutes each. He told everyone to look alert at all times, since you never knew when the camera would be on someone in the audience. He said he’d be watching everyone and "rewarding” people who looked especially engaged in the show. He ran through the audience cues once more, hinting that segments four and seven would be "special.” Everyone said "oooh” without prompting. As it turned out, we got excited for nothing. Francis Ford Coppola and Martha had no onscreen chemistry. He was on the show to promote his new movie. She was trying to get him to make gnocchi. There was a segment about mailing Christmas presents sponsored by UPS. A woman showed Martha how to make chocolate-covered marshmallows, and Martha showed the audience how to etch glass. Because our seats were about 50 feet away from the stage, it was about as interesting as watching someone wait for a bus. Plus, it was extremely chilly in the studio. I clapped my hands just to keep warm. Between segments, Joey tried to entertain the audience in the tired slapstick way that a has-been comedian would. He gave away leftovers from previous shows--a tote bag, a book, a can of cranberries. At one point, he stood right in front of me and said, "Look up there!” And when I did, he took my purse from under my chair and pretended to give it away to someone else. I laughed good-naturedly, but for this bit of acting on my part, I did not receive even a can of those cranberries. I felt so used. In the end, all I got was a small cardboard box with two chocolate-covered marshmallows and a small notepad with the UPS logo on it. As the studio audience got up to leave, Joey seemed apologetic. "Don’t forget to pick up your gifts at the exit,” he said. "I know it’s not a juicer or anything.” I was glad to leave the studio. As I clutched the small box and pad of paper, I joked to my sister how we would have fared better with Rachel Ray. We ate rice bowls for dinner at the midtown Yoshinoya, but even the tender curls of beef laced with fat couldn’t soothe my disappointment. On the bus ride home, I gave my sister the pad of paper and ate the two marshmallows thinking bitterly how I’d wasted a whole day and more than fifty bucks and didn’t even have time to shop at Daffy’s. While I still don’t believe Martha is the devil, I do know one thing: Martha is better watched on TV. |
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