When I heard about the new comedy “Outsourced” my first thought was, that’s not funny. At all.
The sad reality that jobs are being taken from Americans and being outsourced to India, is now a comedy? How is that funny? Unemployment is at an all time high. People can’t find jobs. They are losing their homes. Their savings. Their everything.
And it wasn’t just someone. It was a whole group of people, and then a whole network, thought a show about people in India, who now have jobs that were taken from American’s was… Genius! Cutting Edge! Hilarious! One that would sell lots of advertising! From companies that moved all their American jobs to India. And we would still buy their products. Paradoxically.
“Hey, did you see the one episode where Sally in Cleveland is let go from her job of 30 years to Gupta in India, because it’s cheaper to hire there. And the new employee, Gupta, flourishes while Sally’s bank forecloses on her home and her unemployment benefits run out and she can’t find another job and the strain on her marriage is too much and she ends up divorced and her kids won’t talk to her anymore. HILARIOUS!”
And weirdly, this comes from the same network that gave us great, smart, well written comedies like 30 Rock and Community.
Oh, I know! Outsourced should have been a “reality” show. That way one camera could follow Sally and one follow Gupta and we could see how “outsourcing” affected their lives. Oh the drama!
Oddly, you never hear about jobs lost to India much in the press. Even companies considered ‘Good ol’ American’ like Target have outsourced jobs to India. Target quietly ends jobs here and re-hires for the same job in India. And we unknowingly bounce along and keep buying their products. Cute little doggie mascot! But even if we DID know, what are we going to do about it? Individually? Pointless. As a mass? Maybe. But, where will we buy our goods? Where will we go to buy everything in one place? And I guess we need to keep those people in India employed. It is a global economy, right?
For Americans to laugh lightlheartedly at shows like Outsourced and continue to flounder foward, makes me think of that film, Idiocracy.
Hey, while were at it, why don’t we make a comedy about Catholic priests who fancy little boys. Or how about one where women aren’t allowed to get an education or drive a car and get stoned to death for small crimes. Or how about one where a whole country is so poor, the people don’t even have clean drinking water. HILARIOUS!
I could get Arnold Schwarzenegger to play himself! Genius!
It’s not the show that’s the problem, if only it were make believe, but it’s not. It’s about something tragic that is happening across America. Or maybe it’s all in how you look at it. Maybe the writers secret mission is to bring attention to, and make more people aware of, the problem. Then I would think the show was genius.
Before I wrote this, I watched one episode. I thought it was only fair to watch at least one if I was going to mouth off about it. And nope, watching it didn’t change my mind at all.
Remember when all those Toyota recalls were going on? And the horrible press? Every day the news had more bad things to say. One man was even let out of jail after all the Toyota mess came to light. From my hometown no less.
Well I definitely remember because I have a Toyota. And I kept receiving letters that my car was on the recall list. You know, regarding that whole gas pedal getting stuck thing. And Toyota blamed it on floor mats getting in the way. Please, that is such a lame explanation. The gas pedal itself sticking or a computer malfunction causing acceleration sounds much more likely.
So, I took my car in for an oil change and brought my recall letter to see what I needed.
The Toyota employee, Jose… I will leave out his real name. For now. HE told me that MY car didn’t need the recall.
Me: Are you sure? I keep getting these letters saying I need it.
Jose: Nope, your VIN# starts with a J so that means it was made in Japan and none of the models made there are being recalled.
Me: You are POSITIVE?
Jose: Yes.
Months later, guess what? Yesterday I went back for a routine oil change and this time they said “You have a recall on your car, did you know?”. No actually I DON’T know because you see, last time I was here, I was ASSURED that my car was NOT being recalled.
Jose was there yesterday and I wanted to go up to him, punch him, and say “Hey thanks to you, I’ve been driving around in a kill machine! What if I had been in an accident? Killed someone? Myself?”
But I didn’t.
Anyway, my recall involves getting my gas pedal removed and resized and also the floor mat replaced. Nice. Real, real nice, Jose.
You know that saying ‘the customer is always right’. Well, I personally am tired of always proving that I’m right. Can’t I ever rely on the company, the employee, the rep on the phone. EVER?
Everything can be going just fine in one’s day. And then some guy comes along who gets everyone riled up. Well, he got me riled up. I was at one of those small corner parking lots, you know, the ones that should only be for 10 cars, but they’ve crammed in 20 spots because there’s 7 stores in the tiny strip mall and the owner promised each store more parking spaces than he could deliver.
And since it’s on a corner, there’s barely room to get in and out of the lot, let alone your parking space. Well, at this particular time, there were too many cars trying to maneuver around each other and the guy behind me starts yelling. AT ME! Calling me the B word and everything else he could think of at the moment.
Let me tell you right now. That doesn’t sit well with me.
Since this guy was behind me, he wasn’t going anywhere unless I did first. I put my car in park. Got out. Marched back to him and said “You can’t talk to me like that. And you shouldn’t talk to anyone like that!”
Luckily, he said “OK, OK. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He was like one of those dogs that bark and bark, but once you approach him, he whimpers and licks your feet. That, was this guy
If my mother reads this, she’ll call and say, “Oh Cathy!”
Yup, my family still calls me Cathy. Even though I started going by Kate when I was 19, they refuse to acknowledge it. If an operator ever asked my Mother if she would accept a collect call from Kate Clarke, I’m sure she would refuse, saying she didn’t know anyone by that name.
“Cathy, you shouldn’t have yelled at that man! What if he had a gun?” I mean, this is Los Angeles, she has a point. “You could have been killed. Murdered. Raped. Drugged. Kidnapped. Blindfolded and dragged to an unmarked white van. Sold into prostitution!”
But, I wasn’t. I made it through alive. And maybe, just maybe that guy will now think twice before calling people every name in the book whenever he feels like it. Nah, probably not.
