I Love Oprah, And You Should, Too

There’s a knock on the door. I’m not expecting anyone. I look through the window and am blinded by the sun but can make out a figure standing on our porch. It’s Oprah! “I wasn’t expecting you,” I say. “Always gotta visit my homegirl when I’m in town!” she says as she hands me her sweater. Oh, Prada! It’s so soft. She sees me admiring it and says “You can have it. I’ve got twelve more at home.” I am so grateful and hang it in the closet, next to the Chanel coat she gave me the last time she was here. She is so generous!

We go into the kitchen, where I put on a pot of coffee. I decide to make some crème brulée, and Oprah says, “Girl, you keep that torch away from my hair – I’ve got too much product all up in it, and I don’t wanna go up in flames like Michael Jackson.” We throw back our heads and laugh and laugh, but then we fall into a reverent silence; Michael is a friend of hers and he’s well, you know, on trial. I start thinking about Macaulay Culkin and that other little guy, Webster, and how Michael used to carry him around like a little ventriloquist dummy. That was creepy. But I keep my thoughts to myself. You know, sometimes I can be so negative!

I tell her I have to go pick up the girls at school. They have a special bond with Oprah, since she is like an aunt to them, a really rich one, and I make sure they stay close with her since she has offered to pay for their college educations and their weddings, too. While I’m driving to the school, I am thinking about how nice it is to have Oprah visit! I wish I’d cleaned up the house a little better.

When I return, she has a surprise waiting; her driver, who is also a chef, has prepared lunch for us. Baked Ziti! I didn't even know I had all the ingredients in my pantry. He’s also made us apple martinis, and I notice that he has used a lemon zester to make delicate apple peels that spell out my name and float on the surface. It’s all delicious! We all sit around and chat and enjoy our feast and before we know it it’s time for Oprah to leave. We’re disappointed, but we understand. “Gotta get back to Chicago – I’ve got a show to do!” she says, hugging me and the girls.

Before she leaves she presses an envelope into my hand – four tickets to her show next month, where she will be giving out brand new minivans to everyone in the audience! I love you Oprah! “We love you Auntie Oprah,” shout the girls! What a good friend Oprah is!

Archive File: Random | This Life

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