Oscars Wrap-Up

 The Oscars, held last night to celebrate the movies of 2012, started and ended as it usually does for me. I began the broadcast with such high hopes--dressed in my ball gown and tiara, holding a martini, my family full of males locked in the basement. I looked forward to taking in the gorgeous gowns, the upswept hairstyles, and the un-naturally beautiful, (sort-of waxy) people -- seriously, how do these people look so good -- Jane Fonda is how old? I looked forward to luxuriating in clips of high-minded movies and heartfelt speeches. Ahh, life can be so relaxing, so sweet...

Cut to two hours later, about 10:30 pm. Somehow my thirteen year old and my husband have gotten into the family room, and are talking loudly about the upcoming state hockey tournament. The Oscar presenters are handing out awards I could care less about -- I'm sorry!-- like Sound Editing Underwater, and Eyelash Animation Techniques. Who cares? Bring on the stars and the statuettes! My dogs are crowding me out on the couch, and I have consumed two bowls of ice cream. My flannel bathrobe is waaay too hot, and my patience is waaay too short.

 Finally, it is the last half-hour. I am hanging half-off the couch, trying to escape my own hot flashes. Hold on...suddenly, the awards tumble in like dominoes! Jennifer Lawrence falls! Renee Zellweger seems "sleepy!" Anne Hathaway keeps it to a ten minute thank you speech!  My favorite film Argo wins Best Picture! Ben Affleck babbles about his wife and Iran! It's gettin' good, baby!

 As for the host, Seth MacFarlane, here is my review: believe it or not, I have never seen Family Guy. I never let my kids watch it, so why would I watch it? But the Academy hired him, and they know his material, obstensibly. Sooooo...what's the surprise? He came and did what he does, which is to put down everyone, particularly women, men, children, animals, and all inanimate objects. He can sing and dance though! I can't help but wish for the days I never knew, when Rita Hayworth and Elizabeth Taylor and Gregory Peck attended the Oscars. They must have been dazzing to behold, and did not have to endure songs about "boobs" while they waited to see if they won an Oscar.

Every year I vow never again. I will choose to read a good historical novel next time the Oscars are on, or practice the cello, (I'd better go buy one and begin lessons), or do some painting with watercolors. I will not be sucked in by the glitteratti, so far removed from my own life. They are just people, after all, and I am far too old to be swept up in the Oscars.

Yeah, right. If they bring Billy Crystal back... I'm in!