This year, every day, whatever Oprah says to do on her show--I'm doing it. I've already started, kind of. This past Christmas I did something I'd never done before. I bought a camera because Oprah had it on her show. In the past when I had a significant purchase to make, I'd trudge down to the library for a Consumer Reports magazine. Never before would I have allowed my decision to be influenced -- uh-uh, determined -- by a mere talkshow host. Any host waving consumer goods had to be on the take, right? Aren't they all getting greased for their endorsements?. But Oprah's different. She so transcends the role of "host." She manages to be far better than us and yet one of us, and she'd never steer her girlfriends wrong. I mean, forget that crap with "A Million Little Pieces." Who among us hasn't been jerked around by a drug addict? The fact that Oprah got hoodwinked only made us feel more commonality. Oprah you can rely upon. Oprah you can take to the bank. As a matter of fact, when I was in the Burbank Target, studying the suprisingly low-info content of the Flip camera's packaging, I noticed I had company. Just as I had dragged my husband to Electronics because I saw this great thing on Oprah, there was another woman, my mirror image, explaining the same reasoning to husband, who had the nerve to ask, What does Oprah know about cameras? Little did he know the compelling power of Oprah's full-throated enthusiasm.

Side note, I've started to really like it when Oprah bellows with emphasis on the unexpected syllables. "Wel-COME. John Tra-vol-TAH!" You know what I'm talking about. "The See-CRET!" And in the case of the Flip camera, "I love THIS!"

Truth is, I've always liked Oprah, but I was never what you'd call hardcore. I'd watch when I was home sick, but I didn't ditch work so I could go see her when she did her show from Los Angeles or anything (although I wouldn't mind being there when she gives away "Oprah's favorite things.") I didn't join a book club. I didn't go to South Africa for the grand opening of the Girls Academy. I don't even watch every day. Geez, the show's been on so long that if I'd been watching the whole time, she'd have cause to get a restraining order.

But lately I find myself turning to Oprah more and more. Maybe it's solidarity of all women who've ever struggled with their weight. Maybe it's because we're sort of suprised and happy she's still around the way we're sort of surprised and happy we're still around ourselves. Maybe it's the communion of the proudly perimenopausal. I have to admit being inordinatey pleased to learn that Oprah, like myself, had a little issue going with a sluggish thyroid. If you have to have a tricky endocrine problem, sharing it with the most respected woman in America takes some of the sting out.

A while back, Oprah started having giant freeway billboards annnouncing what's coming up on the show. The topics captivated me and started TiVoing. How do they keep those billboards up to date, anyway? I picture crews of dedicated billboard people climbing their ladders in the dead of night so we all know that on WEDNESDAY, Oprah's going to have CHILDREN OF SPERM DONORS. Oh wait, she's bumping that one till Thursday, so scurry back up the ladder and change it to OPRAH'S GREAT AMERICAN HAIRCUT.

Instead of scoffing, I found myself really wanting to know what this haircut would look like. I wanted to hear what Barack Obama had to say. I wanted to know how the children of sperm donors felt. I wanted to see what kind of jeans gave you a nice booty. So Iate last year I got myself an Oprah Season Pass.

A couple months later we were beginning a new year. Oprah declared 2008 the year of the Best Life Challenge, innaugurating a nationwide revolution of weight loss and healthy living, extending the invitation to join her on the fat-burning journey, even offering her personal trainer, Bob Greene. That's pretty nice, when somebody shares their personal trainer with you. I don't know if Dr. Oz is her personal doctor, but I wouldn't be surprised. Wasn't Dr. Phil her personal lawyer? There's a giggly intimacy between Dr. Oz and Oprah that makes me think he's seen her naked. I mean, naked as in, Do you think I need to do something about these hemmorhoids? I swear I think she said on TV recently that she called Dr. Oz because she'd just taken a crap the size of baby. A bay-BEE. That called for a real good bellow.

Oprah's even letting us in on her secret weapon, the winsome decorator Nate, who you know she has a gay-boy crush on. And of course, there's Gayle, the best friend. Johnny Carson was in my home every night from elementary school through honeymoon, and I had no idea who he was friends with. I'm so used to seeing David Letterman when I'm in bed that I kept him on while I was in the hospital going through labor, and I still can't even picture him with a friend. But Oprah is more than happy to trot out Gayle, her BFF, the one person I wish she'd keep in her Rolodex.
Here's the thing. I'm jealous of Gayle. I just don't get what's so great about Gayle. She's not that smart. She's not that funny. She's a bad singer. She eats too much. I do too, and yet do you see me running around the country on a road trip with Oprah?

Did Oprah bring me for a life-changing week at Canyon Ranch? Does my MySpace page say, "Linda, Oprah's Best Friend?" The internet says Gayle's more than just a "friend," but I don't know. Perhaps there are other middle-aged women out there who are jealous of Gayle, and that's why they spread those rumors. I wonder if there are men out there who feel that way about Steadman.

Anyway from Dr. Phil to "In the Kitchen with Rosie," the Chambers catalogue and Oprah's Book Club, Oprah has a long tradition of wanting to help us, save us, fix us. And even though it's a little late for New Year's resolutions, I've decided to spend 2008 being helped, saved and fixed by Oprah. I pledge to watch the Oprah Winfrey show every day and do exactly what she says. If she's got an organizational expert on, saying you have to clean up your clutter, then I'm going to declutter. If she's got Dr. Oz admonishing everyone to drink acai juice (ew) and do 20 minutes of cardio three times a week, then just try to keep me off the bike. If she's sent Suze Orman out to yell at some weepy credit-card profligate, then bye-bye, Linda's debt.

But if she wants us all to run out and get some $700 Christian Louboutins because they're all she's wearing these days, then I'm going to have a problem. After all, Oprah, who is renowned for tucking great presents under the seats of every member of the studio audience, only gave away two pair on a show I saw recently. Nonetheless, if Oprah decrees that we must all shod our tootsies in Louboutins, then I pledge to educate myself and every reader I have about the shoes Oprah adores. I might even go out and take a picture of them, soles all red and shiny in the window of some store in Beverly Hills that has better security than George Bush.
And if like today she's got a reunion of the "Cosby" kids, then I get to tell you that before I had the sound on, I recognized the one who played Rudy and remembered her name is Keisha and she's somehow related to Gladys Knight. I'm actually pretty grateful this was one of Oprah's fluffier installments. Oprah's out to challenge us, and unfortunately for me it's not always gonna be '80s sitcom trivia.. She's already got people signed up for the Eckhart Tolle online class. That's not till March, and I'm already dreading it. But Oprah believes in it, so I must too. Worse for me, she and Bob Greene want people to make a serious commitment this year to health and fitness, which are just nice ways of saying, Give up food you like and exchange your leisure time for sweating. But if Oprah says to do it, then I have to do it. I'm also going to make note of how little effort I expect Gayle will be making compared to me. I only hope this opens Oprah's eyes to the fact that I'd make a much more deserving BFF.