Paging Dr. Oz

*In my best anchorwoman voice* "Now that the conversion from analog to digital is complete, more channels are available to the average television viewer."

What this means to me—a lowly rabbit ear antenna accessible viewer—is that I now have 5—sometimes 7-- channels to watch while I’m at the office.

Yes, that’s right, I watch tv at work. Sometimes I even watch Netflix movies on my laptop.

I live a sad little solitary life.

Made even worse by a daytime schedule consisting of Judge Joe Brown, The People’s Court, Divorce Court, Judge Judy, Judge Alex and Judge Hatchett. I remember reading an obituary once that mentioned how much the deceased loved watching her court shows on tv. It haunts me every time I watch.

I don’t want to be that person.

But wait, enter Dr. Oz. I loved him on Oprah. He made it cool to talk about poop, sweat, odors and other distasteful bodily functions. I guess in the same way Judge Marilyn Milian presides over a whole sackfull of crazy in her courtroom.

I tuned into his first show expectantly. Oh yeah baby, his first topic was sex. Excellent. I bit into a tomato (good for libido) and kept watching. Hmmm, fibroids, interesting. Mental note to buy some tofu.

Next he examined the purses and their contents of four women from the audience and went into a graphic description of the germs, bacteria and fungus growing on them. Holding up one embarrassed woman’s phone, he announced that they found traces of feces on it.

Now I don’t know a lot about television or the creative process associated with putting a show like this together, but for a moment visualize a roomful of people tossing out ideas,
“Hey, how about this, let's do an anatomy segment and have audience members come up and touch preserved human organs!"

Hello studio audience, welcome to the Dr. Oz show— Here hold this spleen while I look for an ovary.

Oh and you have poop on your blackberry…