Oscar Woes
Things were not bright in Tinseltown in the wake of the abysmal Academy Awards show last Sunday. What once was Hollywood’s night to shine has been growing progressively worse every year, but it pretty much hit rock bottom this year with only 9.85 million people tuning into the broadcast. This represents a decline of 58 percent from last year’s show, which held the record for an all-time low until Sunday’s debacle smashed that dubious mark.
Back in the day, the Academy Awards show was Hollywood’s version of the Super Bowl with all the stars decked out in their finery as the female actors vied for the titles of best- and worst-dressed for the evening. And of course, there were always those who thought it was a cleavage contest providing fodder for the fashion experts on the morning after.
Obviously the pandemic took its toll on the show, and the fact that it was held in a train station instead of a glittering Hollywood venue didn’t help matters. Nor did the fact that the best picture award was handed out before the end of the show. Although I confess to seeing less than half of the program, I watched enough to know how lackluster it was.
Actually, the most interesting item of the evening was the appearance Francis McDormand made. Her film, “Nomadland,” won for best picture, best director, and McDormand took home the best actress Oscar for the third time in her stellar career. A graduate of Bethany College, McDormand is a brilliant actress, but I think she must have been protesting something at this year’s ceremony. She looked as if she had just stepped out of a shower and covered herself with part of an old bathrobe, and I couldn’t tell whether or not she was wearing any shoes. Oh yes, her acceptance speech was one of the shortest on record.
Here it is in its entirety: “I have no words. My voice is in my sword. We know the sword is our work. And I like work. Thank you for knowing that. And thank you for this.” Go figure.
A Light?
After enduring one of the darkest periods in American history, it looks as if that proverbial light at the end of that proverbial tunnel may finally be within reach.
The first great sign that things are really looking up came last week when the CDC released some new rules about wearing masks, or perhaps I should say about not wearing them. Vaccinated people no longer need to wear a mask when they are exercising outside. Notice that the key word at the beginning of the last sentence was vaccinated, so you can just automatically insert that word in front the word people
Masks are no longer needed in small outdoor gatherings with family and even when some of the people in the group are not vaccinated. Also, those who are fully vaccinated can feel free to enjoy dining outside without wearing a mask.
It might be a good idea here to explain what fully vaccinated means. To be considered fully vaccinated, one must have had both shots of either the Moderna or Pfizer-BioNTech vaccines and continued to abide by mask rules for two weeks afterward. With the Johnson & Johnson vaccine the rule is one shot plus two weeks.
The CDC still recommends wearing a mask indoors at businesses that require them, but if people continue to obey the rules and if those who have not yet been fully vaccinated will get the lead out, suck it up, and get the damn shots, maybe someday down the line we can have a massive mask-burning party.
Last Tuesday a CDC report said that almost 30 percent of the people in the United States were fully vaccinated whereas more than 42 percent still need that second shot. So come on, people. Do your part and get the vaccine. Just think how much fun it will be to see mask free, packed football stadiums this fall. It can happen, but only if everyone steps up. Do it!
An Unwelcome Visitor
Last Wednesday was quite balmy for April, and it gave us just a tease for the summer yet to come. As a total devotee of warm weather, I was thoroughly basking in the warmth until my wife and I had a surprise visitor that shocked me into remembering one of the very things I dislike about those lazy days of summer.
First, I must set the scene. There is a deck off our master bedroom, and a birdfeeder is mounted on the railing of the deck. The feeder is simply a flat tray, and sometimes at night, a pesky raccoon will show up to see whether the birds have left any black oil sunflower seed scraps. But this incident happened in broad daylight.
I was in another part of the house when I heard my wife cry, “Bill, there’s a snake in the birdfeeder!” I quickly joined her in the bedroom, and indeed there was a snake in the birdfeeder. But this wasn’t one of those insignificant little garter snakes you sometimes encounter under a rock in the garden. No, this one was every inch of a five-footer lying comfortably across the feeder as if it belonged there.
And suddenly it began to move. Have you ever really observed a moving snake? Herpetologists probably would refer to it as a thing of beauty, and if I didn’t detest snakes so much, I might agree. As I watched this one, I searched for one verb to describe its movement. “Slither” immediately came to mind along with “glide,” “slide,” “skid,” and “skim,” but none of those captured the combination of grace and evilness I was looking for. Then in a flash, it came to me. This snake was actually somewhat hypnotically oozing along the railing of my deck.
Because neither my wife nor I were crazy about the idea of this unwelcome visitor making a permanent home on our deck, we knew we had to get rid of it. And the solution to that problem was as easy as calling our neighbor across the street. This guy actually likes snakes, and he promptly showed up with a metal rod and a pillowcase into which he skillfully oozed our guest.
As our neighbor happily walked back across the street with his pillowcase filled with five feet of black snake, my wife and I heaved a collective sigh of relief. But we also took pride in the fact that during the entire time we had a big black snake oozing around on our deck, we both had the presence of mind to maintain social distancing.
Ponder This: When cheese gets its picture taken, what does it say?
~George Carlin
