She knows something we don’t.

She knew Barack would become president. She knew people would buy a magazine if she was on the cover. She knew we would love to read the books she likes, whether they were about abusive parents, finding your inner peace or medical mysteries, just so long as she put her little sticker in the corner. And that if we called it a club, where we gabbed with our girlfriends about what we read, men would stay away and not ask any questions. She knew we needed help to find the perfect bra. Or pair of jeans. She knew we seriously could not keep our weight at a reasonable 120lbs either and the we would embrace the yo-yo, Dr. Oz and acai berries. She knew hard-working folks like teachers really could use a new washer-dryer with steam shelf, cell phones, ipods, clothes, digital cameras, foreign spa products, fur-lined boots with a dumb name like Uggs and other never-before-seen pricey giveaways just because they were her Favorite Things. She knew we wanted a peak inside Neverland Ranch. She knew Africa was H-O-T real estate even before Madonna brought David back with her. She knew Texas cattle farmers were assholes. She knew people wanted to hear about Jennifer Aniston’s love life and watch Tom Cruise go bonkers. She knew we’d be comfortable with a balding psychiatrist and his down-home accent when it came to talking about struggling relationships so she brought us Dr. Phil. She knew we would listen to that new fangled satellite radio if her best friend Gayle was talking about nothing and everything. She knew it just isn’t right to touch strangers or white people so she came up with her signature double high-five clutch. Better than a hug and she knew it. So if Oprah’s closing up shop, then so am I.

Sincerely,

Sally B.