"Is it really that hard to water plants?," asks the plant killer.

I don't have plants or a television, so take this one with a grain of salt. I'm at the beach with a television, which I watch obsessively to make up for the long, lonely hours without one at home. At times, I tend to over-generalize television, much as a visitor to our country might extrapolate from just one sighting that citizens of the United States all take their families to McDonald's on special occasions and dress their six year olds like skanks. Life without television tends to magnify the inanity of it.

I saw a commercial yesterday for what looked like a more or less useful and attractive product. It was a pretty glass bulb with a stem that one could fill with water and cram down in a houseplant, if one was so inclined. The houseplant would subsequently receive the exact amount of water it needed. Lovely! Especially for someone like me, who kills all plants. But I was disturbed by the commercial. At the beginning, there was a woman watering dead houseplants. That seemed kind of stupid, but I could forgive her, as I have watered dead plants myself, hoping they would magically revive. What struck me as a little off was her attitude. She was quite the actress. Without uttering a word, she conveyed her utter irritation with the whole plant watering scene. She looked like a method actor who had asked,

"What's my motivation?"

and been given the answer, by an overzealous director,

"You're changing the colostomy bag of an ex-husband's mother. An ex-husband who cheated on you, drained your bank account and had a horrible mother. By the way, she's a hypochondriac and doesn't actually need a colostomy bag. And, oh yeah, for some reason, you have the coordination of a two year old. Go!"

It was like watching a high school drama group read The Grapes of Wrath, with more melodrama. She was shown attempting the horrifying task of watering at least four different plants, including the un-killable philodendron. She spilled water all over herself. She tried, in vain, to mop up the excess water with some useless paper towels, similar to the "other brand" in Bounty commercials. She cried. She tore out several chunks of her hair in frustration. She poured ashes over her head. And the plants still died. By the end, I was weeping with frustration on her behalf. "How?" I asked myself, choking back tears,"How can one be expected to maintain houseplants in this cruel world when it is so, so difficult?"

And along came Pretty Glass Water Bulb Thingy to save the day! For, like, $14.99 (plus $7.95 shipping and handling)! Hooray! The original actress is shown lovingly placing the thing in her healthy plants, looking as if she's spent a week at Canyon Ranch, had two years of excellent psychotherapy and is rocking a healthy dose of Xanax. Then a feeble old person is shown using Pretty Glass Water Bulb Thingy, with ease! Even a feeble old person can use it! Old people love plants and can't deal with the stress of watering them! Hooray!

Will someone please tell me what ever happened to just going to an actual store and buying something more or less useful and attractive? Pretty Glass Water Bulb Thingy does seem like it would work and it's ever so nice when things that work aren't ugly. Rumor has it that the thing can be purchased at Woodcreek Farms Nursery, so why not get one there and pick up a few plants and some excellent advice while you're at it? Just saying. What I really want to know is how much the actress got paid and how I could get that job, because I could do it really well. I freak out over nothing all the time. Easy-peasy.

Namasté, y'all!