I didn’t make it to the Frequent Poster’s Lounge in time to catch any of the show, though they tell me there was a live satellite feed on the Jumbo Tron (five minutes ahead of the rest of the world). Chris Rock said some stuff and did a strained skit with Adam Sandler where Chris pretended to be Kirk Douglas’s daughter-in-law, and some various sundry people got statuettes and what not. Next year, with Dale’s permission, we may replay the Westminster Dog Show, in place of the Academy Awards.
What can I say? No whistles onstage, a disaster! What were they thinking? A yawnfest.
Excellent idea. Genuine drama…and the participants are much better behaved (better dressed, too).
The Westminster Dog Show, BTW, was wonderful, and this from a cat person. The Awards were the worst, that is most boring that I can remember, and that’s saying something. We hold this as one of our loose family traditions - watching together with popcorn, etc.
Adding to the lack of interest was the fact that we only saw one nominated movie this year (Neverland) - sort of removes any real rooting interest.
Clint Eastwood has really come a long way - always liked his work, including spaghetti westerns and Dirty Harry. Now as a director - Unforgiven, Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby. Morgan Freeman is a great actor (Shawshank Redemption, Driving Miss Daisy).
Chris Rock was just ok for me; my daughter liked him better. He had a few really good lines, but seemed uncomfortable or out of place for the most part. Probably a good thing for him. I like his all out standup stuff; it’s really a different and difficult universe to tread between funny and outspoken yet muzzled and proper.
Philo
Rock probably did seem out of place but I loved him in Head of State.
Well, I of course could not get into the FP’s Lounge, but I did catch a glimpse of a few of our brightest stars as they made their way along the red carpet. I must say Bloomfield looked positively glowing (that woolly-mammoth-trunk boa was a darling touch); Wombat was stunning in those sequined propositions; I only saw a bit of jim stone since he was lost amidst all the uppercase letters; and Nano, well, need I say more? Jerry looked dashing but, poor fellow, couldn’t seem to keep his jacket from bursting into smokey flames…
Truly a night to remember.
Carol
sigh…overlooked again. 
Skinny don’t love me no more.
Jeez, Carol. Just 'cause I was passed out face down in the areca palm after having mistaken it for a pissoir in the FPL men’s room…man, these scratches are hard to explain.
At least I didn’t miss much, by accounts.
You know, you submit copy and you expect your editors to do it justice. I can’t BELIEVE they cut this line:
And Weekski, the flamenco hat and the guitar nonchalantly draped over your shoulder were so you–brilliant choice.
Carol
I can wake up tomorrow, after all!
Next year, with Dale’s permission, we may replay the Westminster Dog Show, in place of the Academy Awards.
Great idea. Seeing as how I’ve actually participated in that and know a lot of the folks, as opposed to knowing no movie stars and never watching the Oscars. 
Seriously I have always thought that networks were stupid for not covering more dog shows- because there is a built in audience of pet lovers. I can remember when people thought I was crazy for going to the trouble of driving an hour to get to see Westminster when they first started televising it years ago.(few folks around got the broadcasting channel back then-but as “grandma” to the Skye breed winner I had to see it.
Other sports are televised-ad nauseam- why not the second oldest sporting events in the country. Westminister is only topped by the KY Derby.
I was hiding in the bathroom trying to tape my dress back on with the few band-aids I had in my handbag. Will definitely go more conservative next year.
Mr. Snuffleupagus left a note in the Lounge requesting that his snuffle be returned as soon as possible.
Well I suppose that was fun. I vote for the Dagenham home-made jam competition for next year, though. Or maybe we might go for my current favourite DVD: From Here To There and Back Again—The Untold Story of a Windscreen Wiper.
What I want to know is this: why wouldn’t somebody tell me who Oscar is? I think the plot would have made a lot more sense if only I’d known. Then again, maybe not.