Last week at work, my 60-year-old boss told me I'm too old to have insight into a certain project. I'm out of touch. I don’t "get it". He informed me that in matters of music and fashion and “kids these days”, I should defer to the wisdom of people ten or fifteen years younger than myself.
And I don’t entirely disagree with him.
I don’t get out much. I rarely go to the movies. I don’t stalk the Internet for new music.
I don’t watch TV.
Do you know what I consider a big time? Listening to public radio podcasts on my iPod. I really do. I would like to tell you about these nifty podcasts sometime. Perhaps over pink lemonade and cucumber sandwiches.
The other day, a client (whom I presume to be my age, if not older) told me I look like "Shawntel" from The Bachelor. I was horrified. I had no idea The Bachelor was still on.
To supply further evidence of how unhip and out of touch I am, I’ll go ahead and admit that I watched the Academy Awards on Sunday night and I thought they were neat. Granted it was the first time I’d turned on my television since the last Academy awards, and I had a book in my lap the whole time, but I thought Anne Hathaway did a nice job, and I was utterly oblivious to the fact that James Franco was stoned. I would never have known it was The Worst Academy Awards Since the Dawning of Television And It Was All the Writers' Fault if I hadn't seen the Facebook posts and tweets and blogs dissecting the supreme and tragic horribleness of it all.
Sure, all the jokes and gags weren’t funny, but are they ever? Has anyone ever not bitched about the host of The Academy Awards? Has anyone ever thought the writers did a stellar job? Has the show everNOT been too long?
And can we not just sit back and enjoy things for what they are? Can we not just look at Anne Hathaway’s hair and revel in its luster and versatility? Curly, straight, up, down, SWEET JESUS I would kill for that hair. And she can sing! (But you thought that was awkward and painful, too, I’m sure.)
Can we not, as a culture, keep in mind that everything can’t be The Daily Show? (And remember that even when the Oscars gave you the host of The Daily Show, YOU STILL WEREN’T HAPPY?)
THIS IS THE ACADEMY AWARDS. The point of The Academy Awards is to DISTRIBUTE awards. MANY, MANY AWARDS. TO MANY, MANY BEAUTIFUL (and a few comparatively frumpy) PEOPLE, WHO ARE CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED TO BEHAVE AS IF THEY ARE “SO HUMBLED” BY ALL THE ATTENTION.
THIS IS RIDICULOUS AND TAKES A LONG TIME.
And it's been going on for 83 years. You’d think by now people would know what they were getting into.
I don’t know what’s come over me lately, but I am so tired of the constant barrage of criticism directed at everything under the sun. So tired of everyone ready to POUNCE on every blunder and misstep. So tired of the hostile snarkfest that passes for thoughtful criticism.
I am literally tired. I just want to slump over in my wheelchair and take a nap.
Pass me my crossword.
And I don’t entirely disagree with him.
I don’t get out much. I rarely go to the movies. I don’t stalk the Internet for new music.
I don’t watch TV.
Do you know what I consider a big time? Listening to public radio podcasts on my iPod. I really do. I would like to tell you about these nifty podcasts sometime. Perhaps over pink lemonade and cucumber sandwiches.
The other day, a client (whom I presume to be my age, if not older) told me I look like "Shawntel" from The Bachelor. I was horrified. I had no idea The Bachelor was still on.
To supply further evidence of how unhip and out of touch I am, I’ll go ahead and admit that I watched the Academy Awards on Sunday night and I thought they were neat. Granted it was the first time I’d turned on my television since the last Academy awards, and I had a book in my lap the whole time, but I thought Anne Hathaway did a nice job, and I was utterly oblivious to the fact that James Franco was stoned. I would never have known it was The Worst Academy Awards Since the Dawning of Television And It Was All the Writers' Fault if I hadn't seen the Facebook posts and tweets and blogs dissecting the supreme and tragic horribleness of it all.
Sure, all the jokes and gags weren’t funny, but are they ever? Has anyone ever not bitched about the host of The Academy Awards? Has anyone ever thought the writers did a stellar job? Has the show everNOT been too long?
And can we not just sit back and enjoy things for what they are? Can we not just look at Anne Hathaway’s hair and revel in its luster and versatility? Curly, straight, up, down, SWEET JESUS I would kill for that hair. And she can sing! (But you thought that was awkward and painful, too, I’m sure.)
Can we not, as a culture, keep in mind that everything can’t be The Daily Show? (And remember that even when the Oscars gave you the host of The Daily Show, YOU STILL WEREN’T HAPPY?)
THIS IS THE ACADEMY AWARDS. The point of The Academy Awards is to DISTRIBUTE awards. MANY, MANY AWARDS. TO MANY, MANY BEAUTIFUL (and a few comparatively frumpy) PEOPLE, WHO ARE CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED TO BEHAVE AS IF THEY ARE “SO HUMBLED” BY ALL THE ATTENTION.
THIS IS RIDICULOUS AND TAKES A LONG TIME.
And it's been going on for 83 years. You’d think by now people would know what they were getting into.
I don’t know what’s come over me lately, but I am so tired of the constant barrage of criticism directed at everything under the sun. So tired of everyone ready to POUNCE on every blunder and misstep. So tired of the hostile snarkfest that passes for thoughtful criticism.
I am literally tired. I just want to slump over in my wheelchair and take a nap.
Pass me my crossword.
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