It’s that time of year again.
On Sunday, the world will spend at least 7 hours focused on Hollywood and the movies. People will plan meals and cocktails around the Oscars, many will dress up and more will start the event early in the day watching the Red Carpet announcers try and remember the stars’ names. They’ll ask that most important question, “Who are you wearing?”. Just once I’d like one of them to instead ask, “What the hell are you wearing?”.
Every year at least one person from out of town asks me if I am going to the Oscars. As if distance is the only thing that’s preventing them from going.
Others find this event the appropriate time to mention their 6th degree of separation from one of the honorees. “My college roommate’s uncle used to date a girl from Vassar. She was in Meryl Streep’s class.” This is said softly with a discrete nod.
Personally, I like to celebrate the Hollywood moments that happen daily in this town of tinsel. You have to listen and watch carefully as they are performed without a blink. Here are some of my favorites.
At Party City, a Mom and her little girl and boy:
Girl: Ooh, look, a piñata.
Boy: A piñata’s a must.
Mom: Let’s not over-think it kids.
Two young women shopping at Whole Foods:
Woman 1: I’m invited to a Tapas party on Saturday.
Woman 2: Ew. Isn’t that like being told to eat before you come and expect cheap wine?
At the Malibu Farmer’s Market:
’50’s B Movie Star: What are these things called?
Pedestrian 1: Can you hold my dog while I go in for a wax?
Pedestrian 2: Okay, but I don’t have time for a Brazilian.
At Mitsuwa Japanese Market:
Guy: Should we get some fresh fish?
Girl: You never know if it’ll be good. I’d rather have sushi.
These everyday snippets are what make L.A. for me. They are the unforced, natural manifestations of a free-spirited life unsullied by what others think.
Will I watch on Sunday? Heck yeah. I’ll cheer and criticize and pass judgement on every nuance of a flaw I spot. After all, I’m only human.