An Open Letter to the World:
Dear World (minus Hank),
I don't want to watch the Oscars with you.
I know you'd love to watch them with me. We have a biggish TV, an entire bin of chocolate, and of course my rapier-sharp wit. Frankly, I'm chuckling just thinking about all the funny things I could say. Good one, Mike!
Anyway, it's not that I don't like you (although given that there are over 6.5 billion people on the planet, I probably don't care for nearly 6.5 billion of you), it's just that I don't trust that we have compatible Oscar-viewing styles. This is very similar to my I-don't-want-to-eat-Chinese-food-with-you rule. It's not that I don't like Chinese food, in fact I like it very much. I just don't like what YOU order and Chinese food is often shared family style. How about you go eat your moo shoo or your sweet and sour pork with someone else? My Kung Pao and I are very happy together.
The Oscars are a three-to-four hour event and I'm interested in less than an hour of it. With my Tivo remote in hand, I can deftly fast forward through the who-died-this-year montage, the we've-still-got-some-more-clips montage, and nearly every single speech. I don't care who won for best sound editing or best editing of sound.
I just want to see the pretty ladies in too-small dresses, Jon Stewart make with the funny, and a very select number of speeches, clips, or introductions. If I have to take a survey in my living room each time I want to skip over Randy Newman singing his latest nominated song (accompanied by interpretive dance), I will grind my teeth down into little nubs. Considering that I only go to the dentist once a decade, that's problematic.
But, hey, if you want to watch the Tony Awards in my living room, go for it. I'll be upstairs, at the computer, bitching about something else in the blog.