I'll admit it right off the bat--I'm not a movie fan. Watching a movie makes me itchy, thinking of all the other things I could be doing. Commercial movie theaters strike me as greasy, dirty, and smelling of popcorn--not a smell I particularly like. I'd go to showings at our local Museum of Modern Art but somehow that has never worked out. There are movies I wish I'd seen--Midnight in Paris comes to mind, and so does Still Alice, which showed recently at the museum and scheduling just didn't work out. But the average, run-of-the-mill violent movie? I have no desire to see it. Even when I was a kid, I can remember hiding my eyes a lot during Captains from Castile and when I was older and dating, I studied a lot of theater ceilings with great intensity. Nope, I'm not a movie fan.
So it baffles me that people are so caught up with the Oscars. A couple of weeks ago friends came fro Sunday dinner and one said suddenly, "I've got to go. It's time for Downton Abbey." Something else I have no interest in.
This week, I knew it was the Oscars--Jordan insisted they were staying home--so my usual pack of friends came early, five o'clock, ostensibly to work on the couch. Jay worked, everyone else watched and quizzed him about his new job. When sleet was beginning outside and at least half of North Texas was cooking chili, I put out a platter of cold cuts and cheese, bread, sliced tomatoes, and condiments plus a hearty salad. We loved it.
But 6:45, and they were all out the door, saying they couldn't miss the red carpet. As they left, Susan said,, "You'll watch it, Judy. You know you will." No, I won't. I have a new book I've just started and I'll read. Sounds so much more rewarding to me.
I don't care about fashion failures and successes; I don't know 90% of the current movie stars. Y'all enjoy--just don't rehash it with me tomorrow.
Since we'll be iced in tomorrow, I probably can enjoy a vacation. By Tuesday, when the world melts, the Oscars will be old news, and I'll still have my book.
So it baffles me that people are so caught up with the Oscars. A couple of weeks ago friends came fro Sunday dinner and one said suddenly, "I've got to go. It's time for Downton Abbey." Something else I have no interest in.
This week, I knew it was the Oscars--Jordan insisted they were staying home--so my usual pack of friends came early, five o'clock, ostensibly to work on the couch. Jay worked, everyone else watched and quizzed him about his new job. When sleet was beginning outside and at least half of North Texas was cooking chili, I put out a platter of cold cuts and cheese, bread, sliced tomatoes, and condiments plus a hearty salad. We loved it.
But 6:45, and they were all out the door, saying they couldn't miss the red carpet. As they left, Susan said,, "You'll watch it, Judy. You know you will." No, I won't. I have a new book I've just started and I'll read. Sounds so much more rewarding to me.
I don't care about fashion failures and successes; I don't know 90% of the current movie stars. Y'all enjoy--just don't rehash it with me tomorrow.
Since we'll be iced in tomorrow, I probably can enjoy a vacation. By Tuesday, when the world melts, the Oscars will be old news, and I'll still have my book.
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