Grandma Gertie always said there's not a savory dish that can't be made tastier by just a touch of tarragon.

Tsunami and Me

Tsunami and Me
too big to escape now....

Sunday, February 24, 2019

Winners and Losers on Oscars Night


The Place Where Lost Things Go
Do you ever lie
Awake at night?
Just between the dark
And the morning light
Searching for the things
You used to know
Looking for the place
Where the lost things go?
Song writers: Scott Wittman / Marc Shaiman

Joan Fontaine, Gary Cooper
The first time I remember hearing about the Oscars, I was four-going-on- five, newly living on Hildreth Avenue across the street from the South Gate Park. Mama, my sister, Patti, and I huddled near the Philco radio that evening, February 26, 1942. Daddy, who worked swing shift at the Aluminum Company of America, was absent. So Mama readied on the coffee table her yellow pencil that she usually used for crossword puzzles and a scrap of paper. She planned to scribble down the winners and share all the news when he returned near midnight.
As was our habit on Daddy's working nights, we'd feasted on toasted cheese sandwiches for supper. WWII raged, with sugar rationed. But Mama had set a few pinches aside to make vanilla ice cream in the tiny refrigerator ice cube tray so the three of us could have a special dessert to celebrate after the radio show. 

Patti and I had been introduced to movies just a few months earlier when Grandma Gertie had taken us to see Dumbo. During the cliffhanger serial that preceded this Disney classic, I'd trembled in my
seat when a train appeared to be charging directly at the audience. Convinced it would fly off the screen and mow me down, I remember slipping under my seat for protection. Grandma Gertie found my behavior neither charming nor sanitary, and, after yanking me out, scolded me throughout the opening scenes of the feature film. 

Now I spooned up my frozen treat and listened raptly as Mama explained that two sisters, Joan Fontaine and Olivia de Havilland were vying for Best Actress. Patti and I nodded knowingly, as if to verify it was only normal for sisters to compete. To this date I've not seen de Havilland's losing role in Hold Back the Dawn. An Alfred Hitchcock fan, I've watched winner Fontaine in Suspicion at least twice.
This year I've caught all but one (Roma) of the best picture candidates, and all the best actors and best supporting actors, both male and female, except for Regina King in If Beale Street Could Talk. I hope to remedy that soon. I shall root for Glenn Close for Best Actress. I'd read Meg Wolitzer's novel several years ago, and thought at the time it would make a wonderful movie. It did. And Close's performance was close to perfection in my eyes. 

1940s Philoco
I'll also be thinking of Mama and Patti, and how the next day we'd ambled across the street for a  stroll near the recreation center where I hankered to take acrobat lessons. After a chilly night it had warmed up to the low 60's and Mama had thought we could all benefit from a little fresh air. We chatted about how much fun it had been to listen to Bob Hope. We agreed that we had been blessed indeed to own our formidable Philco.

Tonight I'll be snuggled in my rocking chair, with my laptop on an adjacent TV tray, Facebook messaging with actress friend Joyce Ann Newman-Scott in Miami, FL, as I stare at my 42" screen. Yes. Technology gets an award in my book.
I'm looking forward to seeing Bette Midler perform my favorite of the nominated songs, "The Place Where Lost Things Go." At least my memories haven't gotten totally lost in the shrouds of time. And it will be fun to see last year's winners once more.
Sam Rockwell, Frances McDormand, Alison Janney, Gary Oldman
I have no prediction about which film will win for best picture. I remember that 1942's winner had been How Green Was My Valley. I barely remember that movie. I do remember the film that lost, and one that I have seen at least half a dozen times...the magnificent classic Citizen Kane.



Orson Welles, Citizen Kane

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