No fan of Oscar night

For those of you who enjoy the glitz and glamour of the Oscars, I suggest you stop reading right now and walk the dog, wash the bathroom mirror, or take the garbage out.
Make good use of your free time. Or take a nap if you prefer, though a nap often is considered a good use of one’s time, especially if your eyelids are setting with the sun.
I’m not a fan of Oscar night–a televised spectacle that has the characteristics of marathon all over it. I took a stand years ago and refuse to tune in to the “red carpet” coverage that happens ad nausea before the Academy Awards ceremony actually kicks off.
If I ever again have to hear “who are you wearing,” I most definitely will put my foot through my television and no one wants that (least of all me).
I enjoy going to the movies and I enjoy watching movies at home. But these actors aren’t changing the lives of others in any greater capacity than a teacher is or a nurse or a doctor and, yet, let’s examine the pay scale.
For the cost of one Oscar-worthy gown, a child’s life could be dramatically changed, hope could be reinvested into many lives, or education provided for. I suggest showing up in pajamas and donating the savings to a single mother living in poverty.
The entire event is such a narcissistic affair and the older I get, the less I can tolerate it.
I get that recognizing films that tell an important message, films that propel us toward greater truth, is an important activity in a society so filled with injustice. But then to wrap said recognition in such excess feels to me like defeating the purpose.
I don’t often rant, but when I do, it tends to be a bit of a bee-in-the-bonnet kind of rant. I would apologize but I can’t help myself in these moments.
Years ago, I enjoyed watching Billy Crystal’s montage as he started the Oscar ceremony. The reason it was so enjoyable was he made us laugh as he poked fun at the industry of which he is a part.
I’m even old enough to remember Bob Hope’s hosting hilarity and I think it was a time when Hollywood didn’t take itself too seriously.
That fact seems to have changed. If the debacle of the announcement of “Best Picture” at this year’s awards ceremony was Emma Stone’s “worst day ever,” then I hazard a guess that she hasn’t had many bad days.
The notices of apology from the powers to be, and the promises to get to the bottom of this so-called “horrendous” error, constantly are on the newsfeed on my phone.
I see the headlines. No lives were lost. Mistakes happen. That’s why we’re human. Move on.
Okay, I’m done ranting. I’m going to the kitchen to find something I’m grateful for.
Perhaps I’ll find a cookie.