So today is like the Super Bowl.
But it's about movies, not football thugs.
And, really, not wanting to be a giant party pooper, but I'm not into the Oscars.
My pal Karen cringes as she reads this.
And my mind zooms back to some Oscar Night parties I attended that were fun, to a point.
Now, mind you, I am an ultra-proud card-carrying member of Film Forum and watch more movies classique than the average public popcorn muncher (pet peeve numero uno), but this whole commercialized, let's gossip about rich folk thing really doesn't inspire.
I suppose I might like to see who is tripping along the red carpet.
And I will read which movie captured the hearts and souls of the Academy voters.
Only saw two of the movies, The Queen and Departed.
And as Yours Truly wrote the word Departed I queried internally thusly Is it really Departure.
I rest my Oscar-ambivalent case.

Last night met up with Brucey and parked in Allentown and trekked to the Saarinen-made Kleinhans Music Hall to be supportive of our wine and beer-pouring pal, Paul Safy, young crooner on the rise.
He sang with the Middling City Orchestra, three showy tunes, and did an amazing job.
I both beamed like a proud relative and worried that he'd fall on the cord, or fall of the stage. I was, let Us say, a proud wreck.
Saw him afterwards and we exchanged shouted greetings as he signed copies of his cd for those who just discovered his rich barritone.
And when he's all famous and shit YT can state He sang Happy Birthday to YT way back when.

Way back, cinematic Love.