Steam Beast’s blog

Every year, I look forward to Oscar night.  Sure, it always takes too long, and as a traveling consultant who must catch an early flight every Monday, Sunday night is quite possibly the worst night of the week for the telecast, at least for me personally.  Still, it never seems to stop me.  Some years, I've even hosted theme parties where each guest brings food to represent one of the nominated films.

This year, I'm not so sure.  It's not the writer's strike.  It's not the length of the show.  It's not the host.  It's simply a nominee field that illustrates clearly how out of touch Hollywood is with its audience.

I'll lead off with the almost complete shut out of my favorite film of this year, possibly this decade.  The only reason I'm even considering watching is that the Academy deigned to recognize Hal Holbrook's contribution to "Into The Wild".  However, how they could ignore the music, the screenplay, the directing, the lead actor (Hirsch) and supporting actress (Keener), and, oh, THE FILM ITSELF is so beyond my understanding that I'm thinking I'll give "The L Word" a try next Sunday night.

It doesn't end there.  Let's continue in the Best Picture category.  I was engaged from start to finish with "No Country for Old Men" and hope the film and its writer-directors, supporting actor, and crew make a clean sweep, by default, though, as their film did not mesmerize me like "Into The Wild".  I also think Josh Brolin was snubbed, but I'll come back to that later.  "Michael Clayton" was solid; though a little on the slow side, I'll agree it was a Top 5 picture.  As much as I usually love its 2 lead actors and was impressed with the young girl who played the younger sister, I found "Atonement" simply dull and thought the ending was atrocious.  "Juno" was fun and worth the $9 I paid to forget about life for 2 hours, but I also forgot about the movie the next day, hardly testimony for an Oscar nomination.  Can't comment on "There Will Be Blood" other to say that nothing in the trailers or write ups got me to put down my remote control and get my ass of the couch, dressed and out of the house to see it.

Admittedly, this was a competitive year for actresses, but I have to think the Academy missed the mark here, too.  Cate Blanchett could very well be my favorite contemporary actor, but she was damn lucky to be nominated for a movie that was a mess from start to finish.  I'm glad those of you in NYC and LA got a chance to see Cottillard and Christie's performances, but in most markets they were "blink and you'll miss it."  I have no objection to Ellen Page's nomination, as she single handedly carried her film that's a Best Picture nominee (though I already stated my issue there).  I didn't see "The Savages", so I'm going to give Laura Linney the benefit of the doubt, if nothing else because she was passed over for "Mystic River" a few years back.  But how do we ignore Jodie Foster's on air breakdown in "The Brave One", Nikki Blonski's starmaking turn in "Hairspray",  Clare Danes in "Evening", or Keira Knightley's on-screen transformation in "Atonement"?

It's also difficult for me to even care about the Best Actor race.  While I believe he deserved his Oscar for "My Left Foot", Daniel Day Lewis's ego turned me permanently off so many years ago that I don't get too excited about running out to see his movies.  George Clooney was strong, but didn't he just win an Oscar?  While I like both actors and am thrilled to see them finally recognized in this category after repeated snubs, I'm not sure more than about 27 people saw Tommy Lee Jones or Viggo Mortensen's performances, and I found "Sweeney Todd" simply painful to watch and, more to the point, to hear.  Nothing I read or hear will convince me that any of these performances was the caliber of Emile Hirsch, and as stated before, I think Josh Brolin was overlooked, too.

In closing, I don't think I've been this disenchanted with the whole business since 1984 when I didn't see any of the 5 nominated films, but, then again, I was also 17.  I think I'll be relying on the Net to catch me up on the morning of 2/26. 

Enjoy!

Today started out chilly but climbed to the lower 70s by lunch time.  I decided to pull on a pair of shorts when it was time to get dressed and go out for my usual errands and grabbed a pair of what I thought were nice pleated khakis with a crease in each leg, pulled them on, smiled with satisfaction that I could still button the 30" shorts around my 41-year-old waist, and headed out the door.

I went only 2 places:  my dry cleaner and the local sub shop to pick up a sandwich to go.  From the looks I got from people, you would have thought I'd gone out wearing nothing but my white jockeys.  See, the shorts I was wearing had about a 5" inseam, which when I bought them 10 or so years back, wasn't yet all that unusual.   We're not talking Reno 911 here; they definitely went past my hands if I held my arms straight down.  I know because I checked after getting all those glares from respectable society.  It was a forgotten 25-year-old habit from my high school days when our dress code required shorts on boys to go past that point to be acceptable attire for school.  

So, there I was celebrating getting back into shape by pulling on what I considered the guy equivalent of the proverbial "skinny jeans", and the rest of the world seemed to think I was nuts.

It got me to remembering the shorts I wore back in high school and college in the 80s in north Florida.  We thought nothing of going out, even to school, in shorts that probably wouldn't even cover our boxers today.  In fact, as I remember, the boxer trend was just starting, and some guys' underwear actually came lower then the shorts.  We even got warned my senior year about that, and I remember a couple of guys getting sent home to change.  As I remember, they opted to switch back to briefs rather than lengthen their shorts.  Man, those were the days.

Ocean Pacific cords with the elastic waistband (that was so much fun to shove ice down the back of when your buddies weren't looking) and the single back pocket.  Lightning Bolt, Sundeck, and, my favorite, the rainbow stiped Sun Britches with the drawstring in place of snap and the velcro fly (credit where due to ZZ Top).  Pacific Coast Highway with the drawstring waist and the square front pockets. 

In those days, if a dude was going to wear shorts, they were shorts, dammit, not knee length (and even longer) trousers.  We wore them for one reason:  it was hot out and we wanted to be cooler. 

Not that my skinny, hairy legs were anything to show off.  Not that I though I looked stylish in tent material with a rainbow going up one leg, across my ass, then down the other.  It was purely a matter of comfort.  The Sun Britches could also double as swim trunks in a pinch, which always came in handy in FL.

If my entire leg above my knee was going to covered, I'd just put on my Levis. 

So, guys, what happened?

Yesterdays shorts