Maybe It's Just Me...
If you are reading this blog by now, the Academy Awards just took place last night. I've definitely been a fan of the show for countless years going back to my Milwaukee days. Green Book, which told the story of a Black pianist requesting an Italian-American to drive him across the Deep South in the early 1960's, won Best Picture, with Mahershala Ali winning his second Oscar in three years for Best Supporting Actor (his first was just two years earlier for the same award for Moonlight, which also won Best Picture). Kudos to both Regina King and Spike Lee, first time Oscar winners both. Nice to see Black Panther become the first superhero movie to win an Oscar, although the cast itself weren't nominated, but the supporting crew for costume and sound did.
Yes, I admit I am definitely a dreamer. Over the years no matter what I did, wherever I was, I would dream, if not vision, that it was yours truly whose name was called as the winner of an Academy Award. If #BrewTownDreamer got a surprise nod, just like Olivia Colman did last night as Best Actress for The Favourite, I guarantee you that my ass would by crying like Niagara Falls, hoping and praying that I could control them long enough to give an acceptance speech. And just what would I say, you may ask, if that did become a reality? if the orchestra started before I finished talking I'd make my presence known... "Hey, I'm talking here!!! I'm talking here!! Wait until I'm finished, god damit!!" Then I would compose myself and hopefully begin my speech...
"Oh, God. All these years watching the Oscars during my childhood in Milwaukee I had always dreamed about being in a moment like this. (fighting back tears...again)....a lifelong dream has came true. Thank you, God, for all of my friends and family from both MKE and Dillard University New Orleans who have inspired me to never give up pursuing my dreams, no matter who you are, what your age is, if you're an openly LGBTQ+ like me or so, please take my word for it!! many thanks to the Academy for this coveted award. Every dream needs assistance to make it happen! Thank you to exploretalent.com for getting me into the biz, and I hope your goals can lead up to this. Most importantly, this award is for the memory of a special friend, my mom, Mildred Ann Brown Hutchins, who I know is smiling at me from above. Thank you so much!!!"
I'd pray the orchestra kicks off the music until i'm done. Standing O as I walk backstage with my award to the press room, then maybe return to my seat and watch the rest of the show. Lord would know the media wants to know about my actions on stage and such. Would I want to appear at one of those post-Oscar parties? Doubtful, however I wouldn't be ashamed if I was seen at a grocery store, still dressed to the nines, maybe some folks taking Instagram selfies of me shopping or something everyday people do. Hilary Swank was seen at a local hot dog/burger stand, also still dressed up with Oscar in hand, and proudly chomped on her food. This last part actually happened. You may have a different scenario had you been one of the few Oscar winners.
I stated on facebook that it's probably me and the estrogen having a conflict while watching newly-crowned winners. I'm happy for them and their hard work has been noticed by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, yet here comes the estrogen rush, sending tears to my face. Why the fuck am I crying? Blame it on the imagination, as well as still being relatively lonely. Sigh. My roomie Mariah? Puh-lease. She loves talking to the walls.....
Yes, I admit I am definitely a dreamer. Over the years no matter what I did, wherever I was, I would dream, if not vision, that it was yours truly whose name was called as the winner of an Academy Award. If #BrewTownDreamer got a surprise nod, just like Olivia Colman did last night as Best Actress for The Favourite, I guarantee you that my ass would by crying like Niagara Falls, hoping and praying that I could control them long enough to give an acceptance speech. And just what would I say, you may ask, if that did become a reality? if the orchestra started before I finished talking I'd make my presence known... "Hey, I'm talking here!!! I'm talking here!! Wait until I'm finished, god damit!!" Then I would compose myself and hopefully begin my speech...
"Oh, God. All these years watching the Oscars during my childhood in Milwaukee I had always dreamed about being in a moment like this. (fighting back tears...again)....a lifelong dream has came true. Thank you, God, for all of my friends and family from both MKE and Dillard University New Orleans who have inspired me to never give up pursuing my dreams, no matter who you are, what your age is, if you're an openly LGBTQ+ like me or so, please take my word for it!! many thanks to the Academy for this coveted award. Every dream needs assistance to make it happen! Thank you to exploretalent.com for getting me into the biz, and I hope your goals can lead up to this. Most importantly, this award is for the memory of a special friend, my mom, Mildred Ann Brown Hutchins, who I know is smiling at me from above. Thank you so much!!!"
I'd pray the orchestra kicks off the music until i'm done. Standing O as I walk backstage with my award to the press room, then maybe return to my seat and watch the rest of the show. Lord would know the media wants to know about my actions on stage and such. Would I want to appear at one of those post-Oscar parties? Doubtful, however I wouldn't be ashamed if I was seen at a grocery store, still dressed to the nines, maybe some folks taking Instagram selfies of me shopping or something everyday people do. Hilary Swank was seen at a local hot dog/burger stand, also still dressed up with Oscar in hand, and proudly chomped on her food. This last part actually happened. You may have a different scenario had you been one of the few Oscar winners.
I stated on facebook that it's probably me and the estrogen having a conflict while watching newly-crowned winners. I'm happy for them and their hard work has been noticed by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, yet here comes the estrogen rush, sending tears to my face. Why the fuck am I crying? Blame it on the imagination, as well as still being relatively lonely. Sigh. My roomie Mariah? Puh-lease. She loves talking to the walls.....
Comments
Post a Comment