A Show About Nothing

It's a show about NOTHING!

It’s a show about NOTHING!

Remember the episode on Seinfeld when George tries to convince the head of NBC that they have a show worthy of production? “What’s it about?” asks the CEO. “Nothing!” replies George. In his quest to convince him, George asks the executive, “What’dja do today?” The answer: “Not much, I got up, had breakfast and then came to work.” “There’s a show!” beams George. Well, here’s a blog:

Yesterday started out as a typical day with my going to work out at the Y. The locker room was crowded with women. To my right, 3 women were discussing a healthy recipe for quinoa salad. “So simple, my 5 year old can do it!” Behind me, another woman was describing what she was making for dinner while her friend took notes. Three women in swimsuits were comparing ailments: sore wrist, turned ankle, dyspepsia, thinning hair. Not worthy of a show? Now picture these women in various stages of undress: some totally naked, some in underwear, a few getting into workout clothing, some getting out of it. Maybe it just got better?

Then you add cilantro...

Then you add cilantro…

Next, I stopped at the library to pick up a book I had on hold. Eager to start it, I thumbed through it in my car before heading home. It smelled as though it had spent time on the set of Mad Men … like someone had sat in a room with this book and smoked a carton of cigarettes. Not willing to bring it into my home, I promptly returned it (with

I'll just read this book while I have a ciggy or two...

I’ll just read this book while I have a ciggy or two…

explanation) to the library. As a teen, my daughter, Jordana, borrowed my stepdaughter Paula’s shoes to walk out of the house. “Don’t smoke in them!” Paula yelled after her. I understand.

Two more stops: Whole Foods to get some veggies. Not seeing what I came for in the produce department, I asked one of the workers; they were always  helpful and attentive, although a language barrier existed. For some, English was probably not even their second language. “Where are the mushrooms?” I asked. “Shoes?” he questioned. “No, mushrooms.” “Shrimp?” he tried. Helpful, but useless.

Shoots?  Chicken? Shells?

Shoots? Chicken? Shells?

Last stop: pedicure. I always ask for the same young woman to work with me. Hailin and I know each other for about 10 years. She was pregnant with her daughter, Claire, when my daughter was pregnant with my granddaughter, Lila, so we often compare the antics and charms of 6 year-old girls. “What is teacher conference?” she asks me, knowing I was a teacher. “Where they go? What they do? Why half

Color just right now!

Color just right now!

day of school?” I explain the intricacies of Professional Development Days to Hailin and we move on to the polish I chose. “Too light!” Hailin admonishes, and she scurries away to find a better shade for my toes.

Tonight? Poker. A game that has been in continual existence for over 40 years, with most of the original members still participating. I’m reserving poker for my next novel; the stories are too good to waste on a Show About Nothing!


  1. lewisbaden

    A blog-about-nothing deserves a “no-comment”.

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