Years of Oscar watching have dulled me to the blood sport of it all. I tune in now only for the glimpse of true shimmer, that brilliant vein that runs through a community of uncommonly creative worker bees. Maybe there will be a speech, scripted (of course) yet burst through with joy, or a surprise performance jolting me off the couch “RIGHT ON SISTER!”, bawling at a poignant moment.

I live for the wit revealed, the warmth uncovered.

Was there enough last night?

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