TO OSCAR OR NOT TO OSCAR, THAT IS THE QUESTION (A CONVERSATION ENTIRELY INSIDE MY OWN HEAD)

Are you watching the show tonight?

Am I winning anything?

No.

There’s your answer. I almost never watch. Why would I invest the time in an award show where there’s no possible chance of me personally receiving a prize/a treat/the adulation of all my peers?

Aren’t you rooting for your favorites?

I have no favorites. I haven’t seen any of the movies. However, I did just watch three straight seasons of Workaholics. Is Ders up for an Academy Award? No. Then, again, I don’t care.

So you’re not invited to any Oscar parties?

I’m not sure I could actually be friends with someone who took the Oscars seriously enough to plan a whole party around the notion of watching them. No offense. I’m just saying that I don’t need an excuse to eat popcorn and drink Chardonnay.

Aren’t you interested in seeing the dresses?

Yes. Which is why I’ll buy Us and People later this week.

What about the fashion snark? What if Cate Banchett shows up in another throw rug?

Then Tom, Lorenzo, and the Fug Girls will cover it.

Don’t you enjoy being a small part of a greater whole, knowing the entire country is tuned in to the exact same thing you’re watching?

If the greater whole had better taste, Veronica Mars, Party Down, and My So Called Life would still be on the air.

Then I guess you’re not watching.

Nope.

And there’s nothing I can do to convince you that’s a mistake?

Nope.

So you’re just going to ignore the one night that essentially morphs into this giant generational touchstone for years to come?

Yes, that sounds like me.

And you’re fine with missing out on the real-time tributes that are almost surely planned for both Philip Seymour Hoffman and Harold Ramis, arguably the greatest actor and the finest filmmaker ever to grace the silver screens?

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So… I’ll meet you by the big TV at 7:00 with popcorn and Chardonnay?

It’s a date.


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