Well, we watched all 3.5 hours of the Oscar ceremonies on Sunday night. I was yawning by 2 hours, even though there were some entertaining moments scattered here and there. But hearing for the umpteenth time in my life about how important sound engineering is to movies has not made it interesting to me. Call me apathetic about the whole technical side of the business.
If someone has to explain to the audience why what someone else in the industry does is a big deal … well, maybe it isn’t … at least in terms of entertainment value. Of course the movie industry cares about those people and how well they perform but to most of the millions watching they are an interruption in the glittering fantasy we tuned in to see.
Why not break out the shiny beautiful people for an hour and a half, create a flashy program aimed directly at the mindless and drooling hoi-polloi (of which I am a charter member) and let those terribly important and worthy folks have their own separate, beautifully organized shindig. (BTW, I know that there already exists another such ceremony, I only suggest that it be expanded.)
Perhaps I am completely out to lunch here, but I shamefully admit that in the 70+ Oscar ceremonies that I have witnessed I can not remember the name of a single Best Cinematographer, including the person who won last night. Maybe, just maybe, there many other clots like myself out there in the audience who are the ones dropping out as the years go by.
******
******
I went looking for why the ceremonies are called “Oscar,” and came away with the realization that no one knows, there are only attractive guesses.
******
******
This is a sardine, and this is a story about them. They are a small, oily fish that lives in the ocean, which is a long way from where I live in Paradise. So basically the only sardines that I encounter on a daily basis are found in cans, headless and stacked in neat rows.
When I was a boy and spending time on my grandfather’s small farm in southern Minnesota, sardines and pickled herring were nearly always available. Because Grandpa Jacobson liked them, and he was one of my major heroes, I liked them, too. But when I became an adult, and tried to introduce others to the beauties of sardine-ness, I nearly always failed.
Tinned sardines available to Midwestern and Mountain landlubbers are basically headless, but otherwise they are presented as Nature made them. You take a fish out of the can and you eat it. On a cracker or a slice of bread, perhaps, or all by itself. It has a smoky flavor and very small soft bones and goes down quite easily. It also tastes like a fish. For some reason, a fish that tastes like a fish is disturbing to many Americans, and if you add that to the fact that the creature is being eaten whole, well … I long ago gave up my missionary work among the heathens in this regard.
Somehow over the last thirty years I have become a moderately overweight man, a state that I am now attempting to reverse for reasons of health and appearance. The turning point in my going from svelte youth to pudgy senior citizen was during a three-month stint at St. Paul Children’s Hospital where pediatric residents were given free and unlimited access to one of the finest hospital cuisines I have ever experienced. But that is another story.
Today a lunch of sardines on Wasa crackers is relatively low in calories and very high in calcium, protein, and those desirable Omega 3 fatty acids that nutritionists push at us at every opportunity. So I’ve added a few cans to my pantry. Robin doesn’t share my feelings bout these little finny things, but isn’t revulsed if I eat them where she can see me doing it, so our peaceful coexistence isn’t disturbed when I open a can.
I’ve added a photo of a can of King Oscar sardines for your education. These are the creme de la creme in the world of sardines. you can see that when you open the can everything is neat and tidy. They are uniform and uniformly delicious.
If you choose a budget brand, do not expect that they will look like this, but rather they will appear as diminutive victims of gang violence, irregular and thrown into the cans with little ceremony. They taste just as good, however, and are as good for you as the loftier-appearing variety. Usually at half the price.
******
******
Leonard Pitts Jr. writes so well … I’ve been a fan for decades. So when I found this piece on Substack this morning that was even better than his usual level of excellence I had to share it.
Title of the piece? “The Fatal Incompetence of Donald J. Trump.”
******
From the ridiculous to the sublime. The production number shown at the Oscar ceremonies. Ay ay ay, what beautiful things imaginative people can bring into existence. There is a great line early on in this video, and that is: “You keep dancin’ with the Devil … one day … he’s gonna follow you home.” I will only say Amen to that, Brother.
******
Little Home In The Valley 