Everybody Poops

Everybody Poops

When Oprah and Whitney talk poop, Andy follows suit.

I have been obsessed with poo as a fascinating topic since I let one rip on top of my playroom table when I was about four. Cut to college and my roommate Dave constantly telling me to shut it, reminding me that poop was not a viable issue for discussion and to focus on Reaganomics and the environment. Though I always enjoyed talkin' poop, I was always discouraged. This was something you didn't really speak about outside your house, I was told.

Until now. Last summer, I sat in my office with slackjawed glee as I watched rough-cut after rough-cut of Whitney and Bobby talking about "doodie bubbles" and "dropping it on the one." It was cuckoo for me hearing Whitney "Greatest Love of All" Houston get down with some bowel-talk, but you know I was onboard! The show was a smash hit, and a movement was upon us. (Sorry for the hilarious pun) Soon poop was everywhere and I was blabbing freely to anyone who'd listen. Oprah even did an hour on healthy poops -- what they should look like and how they should "sit." Wasn't there even a segment about Oprah's Angel Network actually saving some endangered poop in Nambia? Oh, I might be getting something mixed up.

Anyway, it was a big deal hearing Oprah talk about poop. I loved it. Graciela and Liza called and left messages on my machine, in heaven over Dame Oprah's triumphantly bringing poop out of its shackles. On Wednesday's Oprah, the cast of "Will & Grace" was on for their "first farewell interview as a group" which indicates they are on a victory tour and that we can expect many others.

There were two notable things about the show. First, the revelation that Eric "Will" McCormack has had extensive botox, which I am only alleging based on my own observation and is not grounded in any proof. Also, Sean "Jack" Hayes told Oprah that before taping their show every week, he took a poop. Oprah said something like "aren't poops such a relief sometime?" And then, with the audience firmly on their side, he and Oprah high-fived to accentuate what a great relief poops are. If Dame Oprah is high-fiving about poops then I think this convo is careening directly to the dinner table. My timing blows because now that Oprah is bringing poop to the masses, I suddenly found myself getting shy about my fave topic this week.

I am just ending a week-long detoxification program called the CLEANSE! through a firm called Remede Naturopathics in Soho. Basically, I'm paying for three very sexy lady doctors to give me acupuncture, throw me in an infrared sauna, change my diet through nutritional therapy, and change my relationship to food and booze through actual therapy all in an effort to detox my liver!

I did it all -- I cut out booze, caffeine, and sugar all while chugging supplements and watching my skin turn into a glowing medley of youthful pores! But I did not know all that the program entailed. When I walked into my appointment with neuropathic doctor Nicole Egenberger, I expected a conversation about green vegetables. One of her first questions caught me off-guard. "Tell me about your bowel movements," the pretty lady asked. I thought that was a pretty general question so I asked her to narrow it down.

"How many times a day?" She asked. "Do they sink or float?" "Are they all one piece?" Why, when it was the most important convo about poo that I had ever had, was I choosing this moment to be shy about it? Maybe because she was purty? I don't know but I was fairly monosyllabic. I threw her a bone and told her there had been light flatulence as a result of my non-sugar weirdy diet. (I can write this because Oprah talks about this all the time now, so don't call me a barrier-buster.)

The next day, before an infrared sauna sucked some toxins from my liver, I had therapy in the next office with Dr. Baten. "A little flatulence, huh?" She said with eyebrow raised. She was just giving me a little shit because we already knew each other. Besides, there it was on the top of the page. Right by my name. In my permanent record. Forever. Flatulent. I used some of my time this week to come to grips with not only talking about poop in my stupid jokey way, but in terms of sinking and swimming and in the vocab of all that matters re: poo.

Now the week is over, I feel like a million bucks, I am healthywise and heartsmart and liver-licious and thinkin' and talkin' poop with a whole new vernacular! Plus, my liver is healthier than ever and I just know it will greet it's next vodka soda like a welcome stranger from a land far away.

I want all Andy's Blog readers to take some time this weekend to determine whether you sink, or swim. (It's better to sink, fyi.) And care for your liver! And talk some poop: For me, for Dame Oprah, and for your liver!

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