My dirty little secret: an hour of daytime TV

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If my children ever read this, I'll deny it, but the truth is, I recently did something really naughty. I watched daytime TV.

I never watch daytime TV. I know all about Oprah, in theory, but I could count on one hand the number of times I've actually seen her show. I don't watch soap operas, either. I also don't watch "The View" (though the Rosie/Donald Trump thing made it tempting).

I don't even watch morning news shows while getting dressed.

However, one day about a week ago, while making lunch for myself, I decided to take my sandwich into the den and see if I could find a creative idea for dinner by watching a few minutes of the Food Network. When your regular menu includes several dishes prepared with Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup, you need inspiration every now and again.

I make a turkey sandwich and grab a diet soda and park myself on the easy chair, grabbing the remote as I nibble a pretzel. I don't know why, but this feels like a guilty pleasure, even though my intentions are entirely honorable. (I think about closing the blinds, but the street is empty, so I don't bother).

The TV is still on ESPN from last night, so I watch a few minutes of basketball highlight clips. The announcers are engaged in some inane banter, which I find oddly embarrassing (do they know they're talking about yesterday's basketball games while all across America, hardworking people are doing real jobs?), so I start surfing for a cooking show.

But what's this? HGTV has do-it-yourself programming on in the afternoon. I never knew. I watch a segment of instructions on handcrafting exotic soaps before I realize I'm off task once again. Besides, who has time to make soap? And who really owns the materials to shrink-wrap the soap they have no time to make? (I stay on the program long enough to watch the host blow-dry the shrink wrapping, wondering if this is how they do it at the Ivory factory.)

This is when I remember I'm not a do-it-yourselfer, so I channel-surf some more, still intending to find a yummy recipe from Paula Deen.

But what's this? The Learning Channel offers a program that draws me, making me forget the vacuum I should be operating rather than watching daytime TV. It's called "Ten Years Younger."

The show takes a woman with leathery skin and a lifetime of bad habits (smoking, sun tanning, bar hopping), puts her in the ugliest, most unattractive attire it can find and then stands her in a soundproof Plexiglas booth in the middle of an outdoor mall. There, displayed like a defective mannequin, she looks off into the distance while strangers are surveyed with the question: Guess this woman's age.