I gather it went well, our tenth So True. This is what two audience members have emailed so far:
What a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Congratulations.
Here we are, in all our glory, yesterday’s team, me as usual struggling to smile:
Wayson drove me home; we had dinner and then watched the Oscars, at least, till about 10.45, when he went home and I went to bed. I thought Jimmy Kimmel was great, relaxed and sharp; all I wanted was anti-Trump zingers and I thought he provided some good ones, especially getting a standing ovation for Meryl Streep, that “overrated actress;” as Kimmel said, she’s been phoning it in for decades. There was the usual stupid stuff, but, at least as far as I watched, enough serious stuff, and plenty of winners and presenters of colour, that it actually felt relevant.
What they need to do, first, is GET PEOPLE TO STOP HUGGING. The ceremony would be an hour shorter if they told winners to get the @#$#@ out of their seats and onto the stage without slobbering all over each other first.
And second, they need to instruct actresses to wear burlap sacks, so we can focus on their work and not on their dresses. Men wearing black suits and women dressed up as wedding cakes and large pouffy flowers, it’s just not fair. But otherwise, it felt more meaningful this year than other years. And the best thing was going to bed at 10.45. Because I really didn’t care who won.
Hot sun today. I’m sitting at my desk with my chest in the sun, still hoping to dry out the lungs. Getting there.