Only three shows left. Can you stand it, America?
Even in a pop-culture world oversaturated with grandiose farewells and memorial tributes, the thunderous countdown to the last episode of Oprah Winfrey’s 25-year-old talk show is something to behold. For weeks, she has been revisiting old friends, replaying favorite segments, reliving teary memories. On Monday and Tuesday, she’ll air two shows edited from last week’s celebrity-packed extravaganza taped at Chicago’s United Center. Then, on Wednesday, the really, truly last show, its contents still a mystery. Who will be there? Nelson Mandela? The reincarnation of Michael Jackson? God?
Most likely it will simply be Oprah — the only deity her fans will be satisfied with — orchestrating her own finale just the way she wants it. And why not? No personality in television history has had the cultural impact of this former abused child from Mississippi who hosts the most popular talk show in America: a motivational guru and spiritual guide; channeler of inspirational success stories; counselor to recovering addicts and misbehaving Hollywood stars; crusader for social justice and racial understanding; most of all, living proof that a TV celebrity with the highest aspirations can survive in a medium that too often seems to be racing to the bottom.
I first met Oprah back in 1988, when I spent three days reporting a TIME profile of her. It was just two years after her talk show had gone national, and, though well on her way to superstardom, she was still new enough to fame to respond excitedly to fans who yelled greetings on the street, and to make a point of saying goodbye to every member of her studio audience as they filed out at the end of her tapings. She even let me stop by in the evening for a quick tour of her lakefront apartment. I arrived at 8 p.m., on my way to dinner. I left three chatty hours later, one very hungry reporter. Not even a snack or an offer of a drink!
But then, it was a difficult week for Oprah and food. She had just that day begun the first of many well-publicized diets: an all-liquid regimen that left her grumpy, almost hungover, when I saw her in the office the next day. A few months later, the new slimmed-down Oprah made a grand appearance on her show, triumphantly toting a wagon with a load of fat representing the 67 lbs. she had lost.
Oprah’s weight problems were always the most crucial symbol of her connection to her devoted, middle-American fans, many of them facing the same body issues. She lost pounds and gained them back again; tried different diets and discovered new slimming clothes; looked smashing one week, frumpy the next. Even now, preparing for the climax of her extraordinary TV run, she’s at the high end of her weight-loss yo-yo.
Her audience, of course, related to her on more than just body issues. They read the books she told them to read
