Red Carpet Ridicule

          Was anyone else as disappointed in the Red Carpet festivities as I was?  Increasingly, we are compelled to watch members of the media blabbing incessantly, as opposed to seeing actual movie stars.  I watched for ninety minutes last night, and I barely saw any stars-except from a distance.  Most of the red carpet shots were like "establishing shots",  with so much space between camera and attendees, that  you knew where the event took place, but the actual players were indiscernible. It was like a media tease: the stars are present-but we're not going to let you actually see them. 

     Tell me-is Bradley Cooper this generation's Leonardo DiCaprio?  You know-always an Oscar groomsman but never a groom?  That's okay.  In some cases, an Oscar win is the career kiss of death.  DiCaprio, while never having won an Oscar, has given numerous outstanding performances, and his career has longevity.  He is an actor for the ages, as I believe Bradley Cooper will be. By the way-where was Leonardo last evening?  I surely didn't see him on the red carpet-although I'm sure he was there.  His view was just obstructed by the spotlight stealing media commentators, who mistakenly believe that they themselves are the stars. Not!

     My MLS (movie loving son) inquired if the title of my last blog post is a takeoff on Birdman.  Unclear as to what he meant, he compared the titles:  Oscar Night or My Own Personal New Year's Eve vs.  Birdman or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance. I cannot tell a lie-it was purely by accident-just don't tell anybody.

     Who out there knows what the "Oscar Grand Slam" is?  I bet some of you didn't even know the Oscars had a Grand Slam!  It is not a phenomenon restricted to baseball.  The Oscar Grand Slam consists of one film winning the top 5 awards: Best Picture, Best Director, Screenplay, Actor, and Actress.  It has only happened three times.  While sharing a pre-Oscar dinner with MLS last evening, I asked him what were the three films that fall into the Grand Slam category.   I was impressed when, without a moment's hesitation, he rattled off, not only the titles, It Happened One Night, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and Silence of the Lambs, but also the other pertinent stats-like the winners' names and the corresponding years.  He subsequently engaged me in a conversation about the best picture nominees over the last five years, complete with titles and winners, and his educated opinion on the worthiness of the nominations. Honestly-I think I have spawned the next Robert Osborne or Leonard Maltin. 

     I'm glad that J.K. Simmons won Best Supporting Actor for his outstanding performance in Whiplash, but his acceptance speech was a little bizarre.  I am not a fan of Patricia Arquette, who won Best Supporting Actress for her role in Boyhood, but her acceptance speech was splendid.  Kudos to Julianne Moore and Eddie Redmayne for taking home the Best Actress and Actor awards for Still Alice and The Theory of Everything.  While I wasn't a fan of the film Birdman, I dd like the unique way in which they shot the film, in that it appeared to be one long take.  That was amazing!

     And now, if you will forgive me, I feel the need to be catty.  Isn't it time, at the ripe old age of 46, for Jennifer Lopez to forego the slutty appearance?  At her age, exposing too much "cantaloupe cleavage" is not  tantalizing.  It just looks cheap.  Elizabeth Taylor, if she were still alive, would put her, and many other actresses in Hollywood, to shame.  Miss Taylor had a figure to die for, but never did she bare it all, which only added to her allure.  What actress in today's Hollywood could ever compare to "Maggie the Cat"?  No one that I can think of.  You can't buy that kind of sex appeal and allure.  You either have it, or you don't.  Not that JLo isn't beautiful-I concede that she is.  However, I believe that dressing to provoke shock is acceptable when you're twenty, but when you're flirting with fifty, less is more.  When you are of a certain age, more often than not, your appearance is not as youthful as you believe it to be.  Remember-you can run-but you can't outrun Father Time.

Oscar Night or My Own Personal New Year's Eve

     Tomorrow night is my own personal New Year's Eve!  It's the long awaited, and highly anticipated, night of the Academy Awards!  

     Over time, I have slowly but surely evolved into one of those semi-senior citizens who is ready for bed at 7:30 P.M. ( which presents a real problem on school nights), and who rises with the birds (and my equally old chocolate lab) at 4:30 A.M.  Couple that routine with the fact that I hate New Year's Eve, and you will understand why I am still in bed early on Dec. 31st, despite the New Year's revelry which surrounds me.  However-Oscar night is another story altogether-it is a night that excites me as much as New Year's Eve partyers congregated at Times Square are excited. Tomorrow night, I will tune in early to see my favorite (and not so favorite) actors and actresses on the red carpet. I am eagerly anticipating (first and foremost) watching at least some of the show with my movie loving son.  I will head for home by 9 P.M., before I turn into into a pumpkin  (I said I would stay up late-not that I would stay out late!), and then my son  and I will be texting excitedly throughout the remainder of the evening.  I will be awake and watching until probably midnight, on the one and only night of the year on which I am willing to stay up that late. Over the years,  I used to drag myself to work the following day, drained from the prior night's sleep deprivation, but I recently got smart.  Now I schedule a post Oscar vacation day, so that I may recuperate, and also watch all of the inevitable recaps of the evening's highlights.  

     I generally make it a point to see all of the movies that are nominated for best picture, whether the film interests me or not.  At times I have been pleasantly surprised, and enjoyed movies that I never would have seen otherwise (like Django Unchained).  Conversely, I have suffered through films that I did not want to see (like Beasts of the Southern Wild).  The only good thing about seeing that movie, was that my son and I rented it from Red Box, so three of us suffered (he and his fiancee didn't like it either) for a mere dollar.  This year, however, having had surgery put a definite crimp in my style, and I have not been to the movies in weeks.  Not that I haven't watched movies.  My blue ray player got a real workout during the 2-1/2 weeks that I was home-it's still smoking!.  I have not been out to the movies though, a guilty pleasure that I usually indulge in on a weekly basis. 

      This year's nominated films are American Sniper, Birdman, Boyhood, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Imitation Game, Selma, The Theory of Everything, and Whiplash. I have seen six of the eight, having missed Birdman and Selma (at least so far-I still have 36 hours!).  Consequently, I am not in a position to declare which film I believe deserves to win.  Of the six I did see, I would vote for American Sniper, with The Imitation Game coming in at a close second.  My son, who did see all of them, and who also makes predictions based on the precursor awards (something I as a movie lover had never heard of until he enlightened me) like the Directors' Guild, Producers' Guild, etc., believes that Birdman will win.  That's okay.  Not having seen them all, I am not as emotionally invested as I usually am, but I will be waiting with bated breath for the winner nevertheless!  Bring on Oscar!

"Mindless Marketing"

     It amazes me that retailers are baffled when sales are low, which is often.  In their infinite brilliance, did anyone in their marketing departments ever stop to consider that, in rushing the seasons, they are sabotaging, rather than serving to enhance and grow, their own sales?  The temperature today is 5 degrees, and with wind chills, it feels like -25.  Yet, when I walk into Target, the first thing I see is racks upon racks of bikinis.  Hello!?!?!?  Did it ever occur to anyone that winter coats would be more likely to sell at this time of year, considering the current conditions? That is-winter weather!?!?!?  The stores could probably sell fifty winter coats for every single bikini that they sell in January or February.  It seems like fairly simple logic to me.  I would buy a new winter coat right now-if I could find one.  But no, the stores will be teeming with them in August, when I, and countless others like me, am more apt to be lounging around at the beach than shopping for cold weather apparel.  In late spring, I want to buy light weight clothing and spring jackets.  In June, July, and August, I want to buy bathing suits, shorts, and beach towels.  In September, I think of fall, and the switch to slightly heavier clothing in warm colors.  In October, Halloween is imminent, and I wish to buy the appropriate decorations.  In November, I am thinking turkey, and all of the trimmings.  

     When I was a child, the Christmas season began the Friday after Thanksgiving, and that is how it should be.  The Christmas lights were lit, and people began their shopping.  There was an accompanying air of, not to sound corny, peace and good will.  People were kinder, and with the season came joy and comfort.  Now, people trample each other, sometimes to death, to purchase the desired sale items that they can't live without.  Personally, I don't know of any TV that is worth killing a fellow human being over. 

     I have no more desire to buy Christmas decorations in August than I do scarves and hats and coats.  I don't want to skip over Halloween and Thanksgiving, to get to the highly commercialized Christmas, and on Christmas, I don't want to buy Valentines candy (not that I have a significant other to buy it for, but that's another blog post).  The point is, if the stores would promote their merchandise when there is a need for it, it would sell.  Isn't that known as supply and demand?  Why don't they get it?  They resort to mindless marketing, and then wonder why their sales have plummeted. Duh!

     By the way-does anyone know where I can but a winter coat?

"The Beautiful Past"

"the vague far past, the beautiful past, the lamented past! I remember it so well"
*Mark Twain

     This morning I went into my sewing basket to obtain the materials needed to sew a button onto a pair of slacks that have suddenly become too tight (they must have shrunk)-a needle, (steel) thread, scissors...  It's been years since I even opened my sewing basket, and I was surprised to find sewing patterns for pajamas and pants that I had made for my sons when they were little.  I cannot say that the past came flooding back to me in a rush, for it is always with me, but the find did evoke more memories.  I miss my babies and my little boys so much, that at times, I just don't know how to cope.  Life can be so cruel.  We are given these beautiful little people to love and to cherish, and we do.  We build entire lives around them. Then they grow up and are no longer ours.  We are compelled to let them go, to give them to another human being who will have the privilege of sharing their lives, as I had done for more than twenty years of my life-the best years, when I was young and strong and energetic, and optimistic.  Those times were hard...sleepless nights, endless bills, cooking and cleaning, raising and nurturing, holding down a job... But I would go back, in a heartbeat.  Had I known how quickly my children would grow and leave me, I would have spent every waking moment with them, instead of wearing myself out with working and cleaning and painting (rooms, not landscapes).  Now, I sit alone with my memories, and try to build a new life on my own-not an easy feat for one who is old and set in her ways.  I work and go to school, I have friends who are dear to me, yet I miss my sons, who mean everything to me.  But they are grown men, and entitled to live their own lives, as I did when I was their age.  I don't begrudge them that-I understand.  I hide my true feeling from them, as I do not want to impart any guilt on them for doing what comes naturally.  It is the cycle of life, and like it or not, it is what it is.

     I had an aunt who was very dear to me, and she too lived on her own for many years after her children were grown. I used to visit her with my young sons, as she became a second mother to me when my own mother passed away.  I often think of her now, when I am feeling sorry for myself, and I wonder did she experience the same loneliness that I do now. I know she had her sorrows, but she demonstrated an infinite amount of strength, for the sake of her family.  Her love was boundless and unwavering.  She was one of the kindest and most loving individuals I have ever known.  She never had an unkind word to say about anyone.  She was forgiving, and professed her love for her family, even those few who had wronged her.  I miss her too, and I look to her for inspiration.  

     Forgive me if I have become redundant, but at times I have trouble letting go.  I push my feelings down, like a baker pounding down yeast laden dough for bread.  But like that dough, they expand, and I am compelled to beat them down again.  Sometimes, a person just has too much time to think.  I have been alone so much the last couple of weeks, recovering from surgery.  I have not been able to partake of the activities that would normally keep my mind occupied...  As I resume my normal routine, I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and plod on, albeit unwillingly.  Life has changed, and I've no choice but to embrace it-gracefully, I hope...

                                          The pajamas resemble those on the left.  I still have them.

                                            My beloved Aunt-my inspiration.

A Pain in the Neck

     Recently I wrote about upcoming surgery in my post titled Not Necessarily Cancer (it was).  The surgery has been performed, and I am left with a scar and resulting pain in my neck and throat-lots of it.  Having a number of age lines dominating my almost 6 decade old neck, I was anticipating that the doctor would  utilize one of them when he made his cut.  That was not the case, however, and a 4 inch wide scar is adjacent to my age lines, their appearance subsequently resembling the lines on a city map.  A dense map.  Like a New York City map.  Never having been one to wear scarves all that often, I am now planning to invest in about a dozen, something I probably should have done anyway.  My neck is actually pretty scary looking now, as what was once smooth is now, in addition to being lined, crater like, and I am able to see everything moving within.  I know-I probably shouldn't look, but I am in the habit of scrutinizing my neck, after having discovered its mysterious bump recently.       

      Since the surgery was performed, I now protect my neck with my hand gracing my throat, similar to the manner in which a baseball player protects the ball with his glove.  Everything is sore, from the flesh that has been carved like an Easter ham, to the muscles that have been manipulated and rearranged to dissect my troublesome thyroid.  That being said, I now am recuperating at home, still barely eating, and sleeping as much as possible.  I never realized how much I actually used my neck muscles, until they were violated by my surgeon, resulting in  restriction of  movement. I am also keenly aware of how slowly I have bounced back, as compared to when I was younger.  Anyway, enough of bellyaching.  I am indebted to my surgeon, who has provided me with a new lease on life.  I was skeptical about him initially, but I was pleasantly surprised by his skill and his kindness, and would gladly, and gratefully, recommend him to anyone who asked.

     I have had to miss class these couple of weeks.  I must admit, I like writing my own absentee notes.  When I return, it will be to my first exam of the semester.  I am not worried, however, as I am prepared, despite not having been in class.  In my previous semester, having taken American Government & Politics, I was constantly remarking about the extraordinary volume of information that we were compelled to absorb.  I have now discovered why.  The professor of my current class, American National Government, who assigned the same text book, has indicated that the former class was to cover the first ten chapters, and that he would cover the remaining eight.  We previously covered seventeen chapters!  No wonder I was feeling overwhelmed!  It didn't stop me from earning an A, however.  Also, the first professor did me a favor, because I am entering the current class with a greater understanding than if he had only covered the requisite ten chapters.  

     Surprisingly, to me at least, I am really enjoying the study of our Government.  Having always ignored government and politics as much as possible, I was always silently critical of it, a common characteristic of the ignorant.  Now however, I have a much greater appreciation for the framing of our government, as well as the mechanics of it.  Brilliant!  Of course there are some bad eggs within our government, but they are in the minority.  Besides, isn't that true of any group, that there are always good and bad within, but that generally the bad are not the majority? 

     While recently watching the opening credits of my favorite show, Downton Abbey, I realized that I recognize most of the actors' and actresses' names and am able to equate them with their corresponding roles.  I can only hope that I am as familiar with the names of our government officials and their titles for the upcoming exam.