Weekend Post

Hey, the Oscars are this Sunday night.  I wonder how many of you read that and said, “Oh, that’s right” or “They are?”   Oh for the days when the Oscars meant something.  

As hard as it may be to believe today, at one time the Academy Awards were like the Super Bowl.  The country stopped to watch.  Ratings were astronomical.  Most people attended Oscars parties.  There were Oscar pools, which were easy to fill out because everyone saw every picture.  We all knew the five songs under consideration because they were all hits on the radio.   The actors and directors were Hollywood royalty (writers were Hollywood well-to-do’s).  

The hosts were entertaining.  Bob Hope, Johnny Carson, and Billy Crystal enhanced the ceremony with their irreverence and off-the-cuff quips.  

There was a level of glamour.  It was the ultimate “ball.”  

You rooted for your favorite picture or actor (or you were one of ten people who rooted for writers).  There was suspense.  There was drama.  There was cleavage.  

And let’s be honest, a favorite thing to do at these in-home Oscar parties was to rip on everyone and everything.  You made fun of the dresses, the foreign actors who were presenters but couldn't speak clear English, the pretentious speeches, Price-Waterhouse, the production numbers, etc.  

Now of course you can’t do any of that.  You can’t body shame, God forbid you make a joke at the expense of someone less white than Nicole Kidman.  You’re a misogynist, a racist, a homophobe.  Actually, you’re all of those things if you laugh at those jokes.  So best to say nothing.  

And what are you left with — a quiet room with people who have seen none or few of the movies, are unfamiliar with the actors and directors, and wonder why they’re there in the first place.  

This year they’re streamlining the show, giving awards during commercials and just playing back highlights of winners’ speeches.  All that has done has angered the community.   For the last few years there’s been no host.  This year there are three.  I will say that this was cool — one of them was in my house recently.  Wanda Sykes attended my daughter’s baby shower.  Bob Hope never swung by my house.  

Every year they try a new format.  A new producer has “the answer.”  And it never works.  No one has seen the movies so no one cares, you can’t feel superior and make fun of anything, and let’s be frank — there have been a glut of award shows.  Award shows aren’t special.  They used to be.  But not anymore.  Alas, my Peoples’ Choice Award is no longer the standard of excellence.  

Still, I’ll probably watch it… unless there’s a Spring Training game on.  Forget Hollywood Royals, I wonder how the Kansas City Royals are doing.