Cantankerously Yours
To a Deserving Few: My Personal Oscars
By Wendell Abern
Dear Movie Buffs,
I am writing two nights after this year’s Oscar Show.
I watch this show every year because it helps contribute to my crankiness. I first learned to dislike the Oscars in 1965, when Rod Steiger’s “Pawnbroker,” one of the seminal performances in Hollywood history, lost the best actor award to Rex Harrison’s Professor Higgins (“My Fair Lady).” And yes, Harrison was great. But not in the same league as Steiger.
The following year, my cantankerous disposition was elevated to seething anger when Anthony Quinn’s “Zorba the Greek” lost to Lee Marvin and his horse.
I have never forgiven the Academy. Yet I watch every year, just to deride the entire spectacle. Especially the outrageous fashionista display by actresses stuffed into clinging gowns and mincing along on shoes designed by a stiletto manufacturer. My daughter claims that every year, at 3AM after Oscar night, a methane cloud develops over Hollywood as all the actresses take off their Spanx.
But I must give credit where due: the show has inspired me to dole out my own personal Oscars to those I feel deserve acknowledgement.
1 – Most unself-conscious gambler (name unknown).
I was playing blackjack at the Hard Rock. Some wins. Some losses. The usual ups and downs. The old guy sitting next to me had to be at least ten years my senior. Knew what he was doing. Betting $25 per hand.
He was dealt a pair of eights, split them and doubled his bet. On the first eight, he was given a three, so he doubled down and plunked down another $25 chip. The next card was another eight. Another $25. He now had $100 on the table on this one hand. Before the dealer turned over another card, he said, “Can you hold my place? I have to go change my Depends.”
2 – Best E-mail Joke: my Chicago friend, Larry.
I receive all kinds of gags. Most are not funny. My friend Larry sends only truly funny ones.
The latest (which I’ve had to clean up a bit) involves an old man who comes into a crowded doctor’s office and asks for an appointment.
“What’s the reason you want to see the doctor?” she asks.
“I got a problem with my penis.”
“Please!” the receptionist says. “Keep your voice down. Everyone can hear you!”
“You asked, I told.”
“Okay. But be discreet! Say you’ve got a problem with your ear, or something like that.”
The old guy walks out, comes back in and approaches the receptionist again. Again, the receptionist asks why he wants to see the doctor.
“I got a problem with my ear.”
The receptionist smiles and asks, “And what is that?”
“I can’t pee out of it.”
3 – Most helpful critics: unnamed members of my writers’ group.
I belong to a terrific writers’ group. Everyone is helpful, and all critiques are constructive and contribute to changes and edits.
Each month, I read my column to this august assemblage, and each month their suggestions help improve my efforts. One example: a few months ago, I read to them my column on elderly romance, headlined, “Fifty Shades of Gray Hair.” Their comments:
Writer #1: “Needs more sex.”
Writer #2: “It’s not dirty enough.”
Writer #3: “Get off your namby-pamby ass and get into some good solid bondage.”
I don’t know where I’d be without them.
4 – Most overrated bridge player: unnamed.
Okay, I know most of you don’t play bridge. On the other hand, most of us don’t know anything about sound editing or production design either … but we still watch as those Oscars are awarded.
And you don’t have to know anything about bridge to appreciate what happened to me when I was fixed up with a partner who was supposed to be a fine player.
He seemed all right during the first hand. During the second, I opened the bidding with one no trump, and he said, “Oy vay.” Two hands later, I used a common convention to ask him how many aces he had. He yelled out, “Mayday!”
That’s one afternoon of my life I’ll never get back.
5 – Slickest con artist.
The Ft. Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel newspaper, posing as a competent, literate news source, wins this hands down.
I read the paper daily. Cover to cover. And I find dumb mistakes daily. The latest, from Saturday, February 28, in an article headlined, “Consumers remaining confident:”
“Gas prices has jumped nearly 30 cents in a month to a statewide average of $2.30 a gallon, did that not seem to deflate.”
Wonderful. Okay, no one expects athletes to be able to conjugate a difficult verb like “have,” but in a newspaper? In fact, what is this entire sentence doing in a newspaper?
5 – Most honest waiter.
I’d gone to a restaurant with some friends from my men’s group. Decent place. Nothing great, not expensive. Just a casual neighborhood place. Young man comes over and, while doling out menus, says, “Evening. I’m your server. Name is Hal.”
Roy said, “Hi, Hal. How’s the salmon tonight?”
“Terrible.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t want the salmon. Overcooked. Dry.”
We all looked at each other. “Are we on Candid Camera?” I asked.
“Just being honest,” Hal said.
Ed said, “What about the tilapia?”
“Wouldn’t feed it to my cat.”
Rick said, “Well, what would you suggest, Hal?”
“That you go across the street to Charlie’s Grill.”
We decided that either Hal had been fired just before we came in, or he had decided this was his last night as a waiter. In any case, we all ordered cheeseburgers. They were terrific.
*
Can’t wait ‘til next year’s Oscars.
Cantankerously Yours,
Wendell Abern
Wendell Abern can be reached at dendyabern@gmail.com.