Monday, February 25, 2008

80th Academy Awards! Like Flushing a Toilet!

Watching the Oscars is a little like flushing the toilet, isn't it?

Great urgency leads up to the grand elimination (and the Academy Awards show is an elimination event -- just ask the losers), there's no telling how much time it's actually going to take to complete said event, and then finally the highly popular event draws to a close. Flush!

And that's it for another year, or bowel movement. But I admit it, I like going to the bathroom nearly as much as I like watching the Oscars.

I often wonder what it would be like to be a public participant in this self-aggrandizing Hollywood hoopla. But then again, do I really want to go to all the trouble?

Um, my couch will do for now. Why sit in the rain when I can sit in a warm dry house instead, where I can even vote on the newest Dove commercial (sheesh!).

Here's my take on last night:

The 80th Academy Awards highlights:

The Host: Okay, I was a little skeptical on Jon Stewart as host, but he was okay. Stewart was suave, smooth, easy-on-the-eyes, and he was funny. His Hilary Clinton joke was spot on. And I loved when he brought back one of the young foreign Oscar winners whose acceptance speech was cut short. Classy move, Jon!

The Show: The 80th Oscars seemed to be a cleaner, firmer version when held up against the mirror of past years. Maybe writers should go on strike more often. The musical numbers were kind of blah, but there were some cute unexpected bits of entertainment like John Travolta dancing his way onto the stage, and the spoof with the two look-alike guys (can't remember there names) filling in for Halle Berry and Dame Judi Dench (refreshing and funny).

The Red Carpet: Officially, the red carpet is not part of the Oscars show, but it's a must-see pre-show. It can be a dull stupid affair, with stupid questions, and even stupider and bored answers. But an unexpected dance between Ryan Seacrest, Jennifer Garner, and Gary Busey added a touch of spice and total bizarre-ness to the event.

What was up with Busey? I was as grossed out as Garner. Someone needs to take Busey aside and give him lessons on proper starlet and has-been etiquette. No kissing on the neck, Busey, especially married starlet mothers. I can only imagine what hubby, Ben Afleck, had to say.


The Winners: Kudos to Marion Cotillard, Daniel Day-Lewis, Javier Bardem, and the shorter Cohen brother; his "I have nothing to add to my first speech" speech was very funny. His brother had spoken so long, that the short brother was only able to say, "Thanks," before the get-off-the-stage music came up.

Tilda Swinton (Best Supporting Actress) would get my nod, too, but that speech was just plain weird. Did she want that Oscar or not? And will she really give it to her American agent for his birthday?

The Losers: Laura Linney, what a doll, so gracious, even in loss. Viggo Mortensen, on the other hand, resorted a bit to his hardened Eastern Promises character -- displeasure clouded his face.

The Memorable Moments:

Here they are in no particular order:


  1. John Travolta's hair. Is it just me? Or did John look like a 60s Ken doll?
  2. Daniel Day-Lewis's escort. If that dress had been any more loaded with crystal flowers, she would have needed more than those little red bows to hold it up. Weird design.
  3. Tilda Swinton's hair. Whoa, I understood that red was the color of the day. But talk about a flaming shock of red hair.
  4. Tilda Swinton's weird acceptance speech. Did we really need to know that her agent's buttocks matched Oscar's butt? And how does she know what her agent's bum looks like anyway?
  5. Daniel Day-Lewis. What an "ACTOR" thing to do, kneel before the pseudo Queen (Helen Mirren) for a good dubbing. Cute, Daniel.
  6. Marion Cotillard. I could hear the sound bites being cut across the world when she thanked the "angels" in Los Angeles for her award.
  7. Ditto for Javier Bardem. Perfect sound bite when he mentioned his character's "horrible haircut."
  8. Oh and lastly, Gary Busey. I suspect, if you check out YouTube.com, Gary's antics will be the subject of several videos. Poor fellow.

That's it, the Oscars are over for another year.

Flush!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Powder Your Baby with Poisons!

Once again, scientists have finally caught up with Grandma's folk knowledge: Corn starch on your baby's bottom is the best medicine; the man-made stuff is poison.

One of the world's most identifiable scents is now linked to reproductive development issues in male babies: baby powder.

Researchers at the University of Washington have raised the red flag on all those cute sweet-smelling baby lotions, powders, and shampoos. Their new studies show that artificial chemicals, like phthalates, are actually harmful to our infants; some can even upset the reproductive development in our little boys.

The new study was published in Pediatrics, a respected medical journal. Besides the pamper products, the researchers say the damaging chemicals are found in many vinyl baby items, too.

They have no idea how the boys become exposed to the chemicals, except that they do.

Moms might miss the intoxicating scent of baby powder, but corn starch is cheaper anyway.

Thanks, Grandma!

Read more about this issue HERE.

For more information on phthalates, try this site.

"Phthalates are a family of compounds made from alcohols and phthalic anhydride. They are oily, colorless, odorless liquids that do not evaporate readily."

http://www.phthalates.org/whatare/index.asp

Cheers,
Sheree

Friday, February 1, 2008

The Oscars! Does anyone really care?

Here we go again. The Oscars!

Another self-aggrandizing Hollywood event. More formally, the Academy Awards.

Does anyone really care? Does the world really need another hyped-up "look-how-wonderful-we-are-but-oh-really-you-shouldn't-have" awards show?

Sure. I mean, why not? The Academy has been hard at it since 1929. Why stop now?

I love the Oscars; my husband can barely tolerate them. But then he just doesn't get it. I mean where else can one watch such unabashed decadence, preening and parading? It's all so, well, foreign. And untouchable. Like exquisite jewels set into a monarch's crown.

It's like watching a car accident you simply can't tear your eyes from. It's captivating in all its pomp and circumstance.

And there's Ellen DeGeneres, all fresh and giggly, and so watchable. But wait, where's Ellen? And who's this Jon Stewart guy? I don't know about this. Ellen is a tough act to follow. Just ask Ellen.

As to the winners, does anyone really care?

Probably not. At least, not really. But we still want to know who will win this elitist popularity contest. Be honest, now. You still turn your ear to the TV entertainment news, and your eyes to the email alerts and the newspaper headlines, the next day.

And then there's knowing what brilliance, what memorable words will drip from the lips of the "and the oscar goes to" recipient (it's inappropriate and politically-incorrect to call them a "winner." Wouldn't want to rough up the sensibilities of these sensitive super stars, would we?)

And what's with the picks for oustanding performances, etc? George Clooney in Michael Clayton was good, but neither the actor nor the movie was that good. It'd be a hoot to see Juno take the coveted Golden Boy, but that's not likely to happen.

And somebody was really asleep at the wheel when Sean Penn's Into the Wild was forgotten as a nominee. Did the academy even watch that movie? But there is good news, somebody really got it right with Tilda Swinton's performane in Michael Clayton. She was mesmerizing.

And when is the big day, you ask? February 24, 2008.

ENJOY!

I'm just in it for the Oscars "best dressed" and "worst dressed" list. Somebody is sure to mess up. Wear the wrong color, the wrong shoes, the wrong jewels, or just the wrong clothes. A lot of that goes around. And I'll be waiting for it, drool dripping from the corners of mouth. Just like some of those groupie TV entertainment "reporters."

As to the best dressed on the red carpet, I am sick to death of seeing the Desperate Housewives cavorting in their pencil thin bodies entombed in rich swirls of fabric. So, Mr. Camera Man, just pan them, okay.

Focus on Tommy Lee Jones, instead. Now that's a face from which legends are created. Go, Tommy!

Cheers,
Sheree