I Didn't Watch the Oscars

I didn't watch the Oscars, and I'm ok with that.

Call me old-fashioned, but awards ceremonies seem like the kind of thing that should only matter to those people who are potential winners of the award. It's something to look forward to, to aspire to. For the rest of us, it's really, really, ridiculously rich people patting each other on the back. Is that so important to you that you have to spend 4 hours watching it? I mean, it's no Lost marathon. It's not even a Dougie Howser marathon.

I'm an Eagle Scout. When I had my awards ceremony, meeting other new Eagle Scouts from around the state, I didn't expect to see anyone but other Scouts and their families. I didn't expect it to be televised (despite the fact that these people would likely be doctors, lawyers, and businessmen someday), and I didn't expect anyone to place bets on who would win the "best project of the year" award. That, to me, just seems a little silly.

That said, there are some nice headlines coming out of it all. For example, it seems that Martin Scorsese is finally being recognized for decades of great movies. It's about time. He should have won the year that Clint Eastwood won for Million Dollar Baby. I'm pretty sure that a one-armed doxen (weiner dog) with massive brain injuries could have won an award for a movie based on that screenplay. My God, it's perfect: the crux of the plot is a female Rocky who is senselessly, permanently, debilitatingly injured, and then killing herself! That, my friends, is the 3-ply of cinema.

-s

Remarkably Concise Criticism

I'm not a huge fan of the show The Office.

It's funny, I'll admit, but seriously people, the single camera concept only has one thing going for it: it's cheap. Am I the only one who's getting tired of shifting back and forth and zooming around? This is not edgy, chic camera direction, it is a lack of good camera direction.

Anyway, here's what got me on this topic:
I've got to agree with Dwight on this one. Battlestar Galactica is pretty 3-ply.

And Thou Shalt Be Repaid 3-Ply

I have discovered something simply marvelous: 3-Ply Kleenex.

I'm sure that you're thinking "You're kidding, right? I use 2-ply, what difference can an extra ply make?

My friends, this third ply makes every difference. It is the stuff of dreams. It's a little like blowing your nose in a bedsheet. One of those really nice 17 hundred thousand thread count bedsheets.

Now, I am not an uncongested individual. In fact, I would refer to my olfactory expression as unbounded, given a suitably temperate environment. I have destroyed paper towels with a single vicious blow to their supple centers.

But this third ply, it rebukes even my most vehement expressions. It is the stuff from which legends are born.

A guy I work with borrowed one to take home to his fiancee, I presume to end his farce of a relationship, as she had never indulged him with such a wealth of ply.

But even more important than the what is the How. How, you must be asking yourself, how did I get this box of miracle material?

Did I go to some high-end supermarket, or order direct from the manufacturer? ("And add an extra ply to it," I might have said. "We already supply a second ply, sir," the attendant would respond, startled. "No no, my good man," I would reply, smiling knowingly, "I mean, of course, an extra extra ply," evoking naught but shocked silence followed by the telltale scribbling of genius on paper.)

No.

I gave my box of tissues to some dude I hardly know. Because he was sick. My crappy 2-ply stuff. He used all of them. This man was airplane sick.

This morning, I was startled to find myself repaid with more than double the cumulative layers I had originally given.

But it was more than just the count, let me assure you. It was this breathtaking triumvirate of assembled plies.

Another co-worker displayed, I believe, the most appropriate sentiment when, after requesting a tissue for himself, began ever so lightly... to cry.