I have a confession. I am addicted to infomercials. I watch them like feature films – popcorn, dim lighting, complete focus. How bad is this addiction, you ask? Here’s a rundown of my “As Seen on TV” purchases: Snuggie, The Perfect Tortilla (my latest purchase), Insanity, Insanity: The Asylum, P90X, The Ab Roller, Jack LaLane Juicer, Robin Antins Pussycat Dolls Workout, George Foreman Grill, and OxiClean. This list only includes those I can remember. I know I have something in my cupboard that cooks pasta in the microwave (cause boiling water is SOOOO complicated).
Anywhos, this post isn’t about infomercials, per se. This post is about Dream Dealers. What is a Dream Dealer? Well, other than it being a term I made up in the shower (I realized I have my deepest thoughts in the shower), it’s a person/object/experience that sells you the belief of a dream. Infomercials are infamous for selling dreams. “In 90 days you will have the best body of your life…it gets out tough stains without scrubbing…do blankets annoy you?!” You get the drift. All of these infomercials sell you the dream of an easier, much happier life. This TOOL will make all your problems go away! So you buy IT. You pay that ridiculous shipping and handling fee and even splurge for the “act now” offer, promising they will DOUBLE your order (waaaahat?! where dey do dat at?!). You brainstorm all the wonderful things you’re going to do once IT arrives. Life is about to get easy. You get anxious, wondering, “how will I last the next 4-6 weeks without IT?!” Then, the moment of truth. IT arrives. You anxiously cut IT out of the overpriced packaging and marvel at your purchase. You use IT for the entire week. The following week, a little less. The following week, even less…until IT‘s collecting dust with the rest of the junk. What happened to that dream of an easier, much happier life? That dream went from JUST 20 minutes a day for perfect, rock hard abs, to an overpriced clothes hanger.
We all know to be weary of infomercials. Anyone who has thought of buying something “As Seen on TV” asked themselves, “Does that really work?!” As soon as we hear the booming voice of Billy Mays, we’re skeptically drawn in. This not only happens on TV, but, in real life. There are people we allow in who are constantly dealing us dreams. As a comedian, I am ALWAYS being solicited. I’ve been promised fame, fortune, and my own sitcom. I’ve been told I was “fresh,” and “new,” and “what Hollywood needs.” And I bought the dream. I became addicted to the dream. Why? Because I was looking for validation and verification of my dream.
What does a Dream Dealer get out of selling dreams? Your time. Your energy. Your passion. If they’re malicious, your money, and possibly, your soul. Remember that scene in “The Little Mermaid” when Ariel gave her voice up to Ursela for legs? Ursela, the Original DD (Dream Dealer).
I currently have a Dream Dealer in my life. I knew it when I first met him, but he was a hell of a salesman. I recently tried to quit and wouldn’t take his calls for a while. However, something happened, and I found myself searching for that hit. Unfortunately, I’ve committed my Friday night to assisting this Dream Dealer with his dream. I have no clue why I agreed to this, but I did (I don’t do crack, so my blood-sugar level musta been low). It wasn’t until today when he wanted me to drive over an hour tonight (one-way) and again tomorrow for HIS dream that I realized, “I just got suckered.” Like my Jack LaLane Juicer, I got caught up in his sales pitch and promises of making my quality of life that much better.
Today I vow to remove all Dream Dealers from my life. I have one more obligation to my current Dealer, and after that, I quit, cold turkey. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.
“My name is Ayanna Dookie, and I am addicted to Dreams.” Now…who wants a “Perfect Tortilla?”