I used to love the Oscars. Every year I would practice my acceptance speech until it beyond perfect. Of course I was never sure what category I was practicing for, but still…and the best actress was a great default. And there are two writing categories.
My sister and I were always allowed to stay up for the Oscars when were kids. We weren’t allowed to watch much TV, but we were expected to watch any big event. And the Oscars were then. Nobody in my family liked Bob hope, but we weren’t watching it for him.
The Oscars began to bore me many years ago. Almost fourteen years ago I was speaking to my dad:
“going to watch the Oscars?”
Me: “No it was a long day; think I’m going to sleep.”
“You have to watch the Oscars; it’s history.”
My dad was not a big TV watcher. After Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, and Soap he couldn’t find anything he liked except for late night TV which he had always loved.
When I was young he woke me up to watch Jack Paar cry; He was retiring and Johnny Carson was taking over so I know now it was October 1962.
I didn’t watch the 1991 Oscars, on March 25; my dad did. He spent all breakfast complaining to my mom about Kevin Costner who for some reason symbolized all the worst of my generation to him. Dances with Wolves had swept the Oscars and I can only imagine the one-sided conversation my dad had with my mom.
He was a CPA; it was the height of tax season, Tuesday, March 26 was my parents wedding anniversary, and Passover my dad’s favorite holiday was four days away. Until several years before then we would have 35-40 people at my parents’ house. They were fun holidays, but my parents were getting older; people were having kids and beginning new traditions. It was the first time my dad couldn’t get excited about Passover.
He went down to his office. My mom was leaving for some organization or another. She called his name; no answer, and found him slumped over his desk. He had a massive stroke and died five days.
My dad was the first person to see how talentless Kevin Costner was; he always did have good and edgy taste.
I have forced myself to watch the Oscars every year since; just in case somebody I know gets deathly sick the next day. More to the point I hear my dad’s voice telling me to watch it. (And no I don’t hear voices; this was the last conversation I ever had with my dad, after many years of non-stop talking, on both our parts. It’s sort of imprinted on my brain.)
I actually have a legitimate excuse; Robin Williams was planning to do a Sponge Bob routine, but was told to drop it as it’s too political.
We’re in the midst of a battle to keep The First Amendment, and we have to make sure that nobody insults James Dobson. I don’t think so.
Let the Oscars lose even more viewers. After political humor’s banned, what’s next?