Oscar night has come and gone, and the world continues to turn.
I was really looking forward to it, as I have every year since I was a kid -
but somehow, the magic just wasn't there for me last night.
Maybe it was all those flesh-colored gowns, draped across all that flesh-colored flesh...
or the endless thanking of bankers and lawyers and agents and corporations...
Perhaps I looked into the future and saw Oprah's best friend Gail,
(dressed like a movie-star and interviewing movie stars
for Oprah's EXCLUSIVE INSIDE post-Oscar movie-star autopsy show),
and became so annoyed by how much Gail sounded like Oprah sounding like Maya Angelou
that I was rendered incapable of ever enjoying anything, ever again.
Or... maybe the magic died when I read this:
"According to the Seattle Times, the company Distinctive Assets partnered with Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas to offer a $45,000 gift bag for the non-winning nominees of the six major categories (picture, director, actor, actress, supporting actor/actress).
And if you win an Oscar? Good heavens! Some place the value of the winner's bags in excess of $110,000, which encompasses "...a $10,000 gift certificate to any Exclusive Resorts location, a Revlon Red Carpet Bag stuffed with beautifying tools tagged at $2,500, products from the new Los Angeles-based unisex skin-care line GINGI, an HDTV package from VOOM and Samsung, black pearl jewelry and $12,000 worth of lingerie, fragrances and accessories from Victoria's Secret."
From the Daily Trojan Online/student newspaper of So.Cal.
I mean - really?
The idea of that much ridiculous bling being tossed at people
already too stuffed to jump just roasts my ass.
After the montage of film noir clips, when my daughter asked me
about the 'classy people' - I told her they all died.
Such bitterness toward the stars is unbecoming, I know;
I'll have to work on that.
Overheard on my trip into town today:
"Dude! my whole fuckin' childhood was like the one fuckin' guy
in a fuckin' jungle of fuckin' women, dude." - phillips 66 gas statio
"Which would mean ME driving someone else's car for about 20 minutes,
and she would hafta give me head all night long for me to agree to that." - grocery store
"whattya want?" - coffee stand
Where did all the classy people go?
bs
Oh - important news flash:
I, Brown Shoes, will be joining the magical realm
of those who can watch The Sopranos in real time!
Every other year, I have watched them weeks after they actually aired.
My friend C.'s parents in L.A. would tape them, send them to C. -
who would watch them and then pass them on to me.
It was actually kind of cool - the parents were into it, and every epsiode
was that much more exciting because it had been imported...
But, in the centuries between now and when the Sopranos were last on,
VHS has practically become a thing of the past; I don't even know if my machine
works anymore. And more importantly, one of the parents has fallen ill,
which puts exporting thugs and godfathers onto the way-back burner.
So - I guess I am going to crawl toward the 21st century by getting HBO
for the first time. Maybe I'll go stark raving modern and get TIVO while I'm at it.
Wish me luck.
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5 comments:
I feel no little smugness in reporting that I did not watch any of the Oscars and that I know who won what is only by accidental nearness to news, newspapers, and this stupid computer.
Not that I did anything better. I was asleep by nine, watching "The Beautiful and The Damned." Kirk Douglas, Lana Turner, Walter Pigeon. Now there was class.
As for your venture into Sunday night bliss I can only say: Welcome to New Jersey. Bada-boom... bada bing.
Hail, hail, HBO! There is nothing quite like a Sunday during Soprano Time. No matter what else happens, you've always got the Tone.
Yeah, it's a grunt just thinking about all those money-swollen people receiving fifty thousand dollar gift bags. Like: WHY? Does anybody really think the Golden Ones wouldn't show if they weren't offered diamond peanuts?
And there I am, in hospital, feeling so grateful because they give me two tiny cans of free apple juice. Oh, and two packets of graham crackers, as well. WOW! Apple juice and graham crackers! All for me!
Meryl Streep is classy.
The beautiful Chinese woman in the black-bodice was classy. George Clooney is classy. Phillip Seymour Hoffman was classy because he was real and looked like a guy you'd see in the aisle of Safeway. But nobody can outclass Cary Grant or Fred Astaire or David Niven - or Judi Dench, for that matter. Judi Dench IS class-incarnate. Classy is a mixture of panache, wit, humility and grace. Lilly Tomlin is maybe classy. Samuel Jackson is always classy. John Travolta too, even is he is hardcore Scientology.
Jimmy Stewart was classy. Robert Montgomery was classy. Elizabeth Taylor was so Unclassy that she WAS classy.
And Tony SOprano, when he's all spiffied up and you can practically smell his shaving lotion, well, then he's classy too!
Dr. Bookworm
Amen Dr.Bookworm - amen.
However - I would check my bill if I were you - a $793.00 charge for the juice and crackers is likely to show up sometime soon...
As for you, Mr. TooGoodForOscar... well, I salute youand I admit that
I felt rather tarnished after rubbing virtual elbows with the stars. I think I might have enjoyed your evening a bit better;
the ultra-squareness of Kirk Douglas's chin somehow always makes me feel reassured.
bs
I'm going to have to weigh in on this subject from my own blog. Bout time some will say, but I been busy. Don't remember what I was doin' but it precluded Blogorithms. I shall try harder and I have so much enjoyed you-all's efforts in the meantime!
I'm going to have to weigh in on this subject from my own blog. Bout time some will say, but I been busy. Don't remember what I was doin' but it precluded Blogorithms. I shall try harder and I have so much enjoyed you-all's efforts in the meantime!
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