I’d planned to watch a little glitz last night, mostly because of Billy Crystal, who manages to make sport of Hollywood’s reigning elite, yet gets invited back as his humor somehow skirts lasting injury.
The Oscars are actually a couple of shows in one; the first where they award gleaming statuary for popularity in acting and immenseness of box office, and the second watching all the folks you grew up watching, how they’ve spread wider in their seats. Once lean, hungry, and fit – now well fed, botoxed and ill at ease wearing a girdle.
Thoughts of that spectacle came unbidden while tromping through the Little Stinking’s lower marshes … where past pools and deep runs had widened or filled with sand, now a caricature of their former selves.
I found myself naming them with the actor or actress they resembled. The “Meryl Streep Pool”, wide and holding few fish, but doing so with dignity …
… or the “Jack Nicholsen”, stuffed with silt and lifeless, faint resemblance to any past greatness …
I’m sure sometime tonight I’ll see the rows of directors, producers, and the up and coming starlets. Young and vibrant, bodices layered in jewels and sequins sitting next to a director or their parents – hoping their aging and 50-something airbrushed leading man doesn’t embarrass them further by asking them out.
That’s some mighty fine looking real estate up there on the hill. Are there banjos in California?
..Not as many as in Siskyou County,in SB’s part of the state they’ve been sold or used to smoke nasty sh7%…..
You guys are looking at Coldstream Outfitters new world headquarters building. At last I’ll be able to attend cocktail parties and complain about the bottom dropping out from under my investments and going under water.
Thanks a lot, Mr. S. Barbed.
As you know, I live on the adjoining property downstream of this fine cluster of structures. I was just waiting for the next high-water event to claim ownership and form an exclusive club for husbands and significant others to escape honey-do lists while we drink Scotch and watch the jetsam and flotsam drift by.
Hands off, Mr. I. Rock!