A Chevy for Six, Please

R didn’t do justice yesterday to what we now realise are known as Infomercials: those half hour advertising programmes as gripping as any soap.

We have now clocked up hours of infomercials on the tv screen in each hotel we’ve stayed in, and since we’ve not spent hours in the rooms, it must mean the infomercials are running the whole time we are in occupancy.

The reason they’re so compelling is that they are brilliantly well done. The interviews with real people are completely convincing as are the before and after shots of dirty carpets, dry lank hair or flabby stomachs. I am totally won over to whichever product is being marketed. It’s targeting simultaneously all my unrecognised and conscious needs and wants. In the space of 30 minutes my life, body and general appearance are transformed. In my imagination, of course. And after a brief phone call, payment and a bit of application and hard work.

We’re so enthralled by this channel, we haven’t explored what else US tv has to offer, but I’m tempted to stray now having read a couple of recent articles on the Honey Boo Boo phenomenon.

It’s a reality tv show which has only been running for the time we’ve been over here, but already it’s attracted a couple of million viewers. Centred on a six year old beauty pageant queen (the youngest in a “redneck” family from Georgia all with funny nicknames) it has the chattering liberal tv critics torn between horror and fascination.

Even by the familiar exploitative standards of reality tv in the name of entertainment, this one is calling out for at least one episode to be watched.

But only if I can drag myself away from the infomercials channel.