Watching a Morning TV Show with the Sound Off

Everyone’s mouth is moving in sync while their heads tilt softly to the right and to the left, equally so as not to offend but to get the point across without appearing to be a puppet. 

There are six mouths in all, all of them sitting in high-chairs. 3 mouths look happy, 2 mouths look serious, and 1 mouth would rather be somewhere else, having thought that by now he’d have his own tv show.

The women cross their legs, the men let their feet dangle or find a place for them to rest on the metal bar attached to the bottom of the high-chair.  

At the commercial(s) break the mouths disappear and are replaced by other mouths. This group of new mouths, theatrically trained, are hired to sell a variety of different products without commission. The new mouths sell by doing tricks, singing, laughing, smiling, dancing. Mouths are insured, mouths are rinsed with a special mint mouthwash, mouths are complaining about their limited cell phones coverage and signing up for a better service plan; by the end of the last :30 second commercial sad mouths are happy having eaten a piece of pizza washed down with a diet soda. 

When the commercials are over and all the talent’s been paid, the morning tv show returns for another segment. The pop star with a tragic but inspirational life is interviewed by one of the mouths. The pop star is both happy and sad and, consequently, appears to be a real person with a life that appears glamorous and successful but is in reality just like the lives of those watching the morning show. Some real tears are shed from both the mouth of the interviewer and the interviewee amidst a multitude of smiles. 

The mouth with blue eyeglasses is up next. He’s the weatherman. A warm front is descending up and down the eastern seaboard. Storms hover over the west. Have a nice Wednesday.