In an earlier blog piece, I told you that my acting career died in a broom closet. But I lied. I mean, I took literary license. That’s allowed, you know. I pretend to be a writer both at work and here in the ‘sphere; I am allowed to lie. So there.
But even after leaving my dream in tatters with the mops and brooms, I continued to pipe-dream. That’s different than the real thing, and you don’t have to remember lines, or stage directions or what to do with props. It’s actually much easier. You get to keep your privacy, too, which is nice.
Most of my friends are aware of this fantasy of mine, and of my need to, from time to time, stand on a table (instead of a stage) and tell a story. It often involves alcoholic beverages. The table standing, not necessarily the story.
Tonight, as I watch the Academy Awards show honoring movies I haven’t seen, I thought I’d tell my new readers about the night I received my Oscars.
Really.
It was an incredibly special night for me. An honor really. Well, actually, two honors. Two Oscars. Two Awards. But I only got to make one speech.
It was 1983, and some really fun people worked in my office that summer, one of whom, Jon, was from the area. Carol, Mike, Jon and I all went to Jon’s house one night. You see, 1983 was still in the Bronze Age, and Jon’s parents were on the cutting age of technology, because they had a VCR. And Risky Business had just come out on video.
In the middle of the movie, we took a beer/bathroom break. And guess what I spotted, casually stuck on the bookshelf in the TV room of Rob’s house.
Oscar
And Oscar
It turned out that Jon’s father was a filmmaker. Documentary films. And while Rob didn’t know of my dreams, Carol did. So my pals presented me with two Oscars for Documentary Film-making. Sadly, not one of us had a camera. Probably just as well, because not many stars accept wearing blue jeans.
Receiving Oscar, and his twin, Oscar, was a special honor to me, since I had neither made, nor been in any documentary films, nor even fetched donuts and coffee for the real filmmakers. Regardless, I got to hold Oscar and Oscar, and I got to make a speech accepting my Academy Awards. So I am in an unusual club of people who have never actually acted or contributed in any way, shape or form to a movie, who has been presented an Academy Award.
Yes, I’m that good.
FiftyFourandAHalf 
HA!!!!!
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Is Oscar heavy?
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He’s not heavy but substantial. I cheated and googled it and learned that he weighs 8-1/2 pounds. So I should go walking with one in each hand, and a pair strapped to my feet for a good workout!
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I’m still waiting on my Grammy award despite the fact that I don’t sing very well or know how to play an instrument.
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Don’t worry, Revis. It’ll come.
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I have my acceptance speech ready. All I need to do is “do something worthy!”
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I’m betting you have, Kate. Feigned politeness in a Starbucks line, perhaps? That works for me!
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I used to pretend my hairbrush was my Best Actress award. Close enough, right ?
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Close enough for PriceWaterhouse 😏
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When I was in studying Film and Television we had a speaker come into our class with his friend “Oscar”. He was a local fellow who had made good in Hollywood. There wasn’t one of us that did not hold “Oscar” and have our picture taken with him. Some even had our picture taken with the speaker as well. 😉
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Of course you all did! That’s the dream!
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Truth is you are probably the only queen ever to win. … but you did miss some good movies this year!
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Might depend on your definition, Frank!
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Of Queen I meant! I’ll see the movies though!
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That was a Moment. Cherish it.
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Oh I do! And I didn’t have to give up my privacy!
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Well, of COURSE you are that good. We who read your blog have never had the slightest doubt! I am pleased to learn that the gods who oversee fictitious fabrications and dearly-held fantasies did right by you.
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What a nice thing to say. It actually gave me some closure because, after all, how could I do better than that!
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That, Elyse, is why awesome things happen to awesome people. Congrats on both your Oscars. You were finally rewarded for your xxxx years of hard work and patience.
Oh and I’m pretty sure only you (and maybe Meryl Streep) could pull off jeans for the big speech:)
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Thanks Gabe. Me and Meryl often use the same designers!
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Great memory. I bet you would/could have been a screen writer or an actress. You are pretty dang good just messing around as a blogger. 🙂
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Here you are, writing such a nice comment, and I didn’t get back to you until today! Thanks, PPL!
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You ARE that good, Elyse. 🙂
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Awww, shucks, VD. Now if only you could say that about my body!
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You are beautiful no matter what size you come in, my friend whom I have never laid eyes on… 🙂
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As are you. 😘
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Years ago, I worked for a nice man who had several Emmys on his shelf. I always wanted to hold them but I didn’t have the nerve to ask. It may have been silly to want to hold one, but it was even sillier not to ask.
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Actually I don’t think either is silly. I bet you were taught not to gawk like I was. Had Jon’s father been there, I wouldn’t have had the nerve!
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