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Posts Tagged ‘Ralph Fiennes’

The Oscars are a big deal at our house. Four years out of five we couldn’t care less who wins, but we still make a party of it. This year, the gals liked “An Education” and the guys liked “Inglourious Basterds,” but no one worked up a sweat. (Nothing like the year Ralph Fiennes was up for “The English Patient.” I’m never going to feel the same about Geoffrey Rush after he stole Ralph’s Oscar.) This year, we were happy that a woman won Best Director, but no one was passionate about “The Hurt Locker,” so it got a fairly tepid cheer.

But whatever our level of interest in the awards themselves, each year the six of us (His Highness, me, the “kids” and their SOs) pile into the family room, where the embarrassingly gigantic television lives, and watch the whole crazy show, from the red carpet right up to the closing credits. Someone–this year it was Mike, who draws a great Avatar!–puts a picture on the white board, celebrating the big night. The coffee table nearly cracks, there’s so much food on it.

We pass out ballots and make jokes about being so clueless in the technical categories. Someone always says, “What’s the difference between sound editing and sound mixing again?” We have all looked at online forecasts of the winners, but we’ve all forgotten what they said. Then we turn to our Bingo sheets, which we’ve made specially for our family. It includes squares like “Renie tweets about awards” (she’s always connected) and “Daddy thinks someone’s hair looks as if it was styled by a wood chipper.” We wait for Mike to get bored and pick up his guitar, for Necole to get sleepy, or for me to tear up over something sappy. Sometimes we poll the room–“I need a majority of the gals to agree a dress is horrible. I hate that one. Do you hate that one?” Then we jubilantly mark off our squares. On the mantel sit our “prizes,” usually gift certificates to Best Buy or iTunes.

Although everyone in our family believes that watching an actual movie requires total, sacred silence, the rules are different for the Oscars. It’s a little like Mystery Science Theater 3000. We laugh and catcall and yell at the people on the stage and at each other. We critique gowns and tuxedos and drool over Robert Downey Jr. Well, the guys don’t. It’s weird…they seem to think the gals would be mortally offended if they lusted openly after one of the hot actresses. We probably would. 😉

Then, when it’s finally over, comes the part I love the best. Though all night we’ve been hassling each other about being Oscar-stupid, or about being so far behind on reaching Bingo, everything changes. As we count up our correct guesses and double-check our squares, the Ballot and Bingo winners try to find a way to prove that they didn’t really win, so that they can give the prize to someone else, someone they dearly love.

I adore Oscar night…because it always reminds me how much I like our crazy family.

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