I’m waiting at the restaurant, watching the big-screen TV. The food channel is on. The last three commercials in a row all featured a family cooking and enjoying a meal together. They all featured exactly the same setting: an impossibly spacious kitchen in soft-focus, hermetically sealed off from all life forms. Only lab-coated men with graduate degrees after there names are permitted inside once a year on the appointed day. They bring their cameras and conditioned actors with highly conditioned hair. Kiss your “mother”. Hug you “brother”. Gush over the frozen chicken nuggets taken from the beautiful oak fixture freezer drawer.
Don’t be jealous of this family. When the camera switches off, they cease to exist and the spotless granite counter tops return to the cold vacuum of deep space.