Ah, time for the Academy Awards. A ceremony lasting roughly two months where we honor excellence in the Democratic Party, I mean, the motion picture business.
People in Los Angeles, where I live, don’t particularly look forward to the ceremony because authorities shut down Hollywood Blvd sometime in mid July to prepare. Rumor also has it that police try to get all the “riff-raff” off the streets before the show, which is tough because 99% of people who hang out on Hollywood Blvd are technically “riff-raff.” Technically if you eliminate riff-raff, well over half the nominated actors and actresses shouldn’t be allowed inside.
The ceremony is ostensibly to pay homage to the best in acting, writing and directing. Of course most years the typical Oscar nominated film is a subtitled picture made overseas by a political refugee-turned-director and seen by fewer people than watches a PBS special on the history of the garden hoe, so it doesn’t mean much.
This year the nominees include “Little Miss Sunshine” a very funny movie featuring dysfunction, psychoses, attempted suicide, homosexuality and a heroin addicted senior citizen, and that’s just the first ten minutes. It’s being praised for its “family values.”
Previous Oscar ceremonies have featured some amazing moments. One of my favorites was Halle Barry, upon becoming the first African American to win Best Actress, breaking down and sobbing like the judge in the Anna Nicole Smith case.
A quick impression of the Anna Nicole judge: “I hope she’s buried in the Baha – hey, anybody here watch TV Land? I just love Green Acres. Green is one of my favorite colors, right after brown. Remember Jim Brown? He was a great running back. That reminds me, I need to watch American Idol…my idol was Abe Lincoln, what a great beard he had. I hate shaving…now where was I? Oh, yes, I want her buried in the Bahamas. Bahamas almost rhymes with pajamas, doesn’t it?”
Pretty much all of my other favorite moments in the Oscars involve Billy Crystal dancing in the opening number, because I usually nod off half an hour into the show.
Well, whatever happens this year I hope it’s meaningful. I’d hate to think they moved all that riff-raff off the streets for nothing.
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