Ukrainian refugees bombed out of their homes, towns, and villages, presently residing in refuge centers in Ukraine, Poland, and everywhere else that will take them are praying their hands to the sky, asking, “What the hell is wrong with those Americans in Hollywood?”
That's Hollywood.
They live in mansions, not in a gymnasium with 400 strangers, are dressed in tuxedos and their best gowns, not in clothing left on tables, drive up in limos without walking for miles dodging bombs, and bullets, all of that elegance and luxury to attend an awards ceremony.
On stage, the presenter of an award made a foolish joke about a wife in the audience. Then the wife’s husband walked up on stage and smacked the presenter who made the foolish joke.
The husband then returned to his seat and used the F word twice to better educate the presenter on his future behavior.
Uh-huh!
All of the solemnity of the evening instantly vanished. Hannibal Lecter looked stunned, searching for words. The land of make-believe suddenly was smacked into reality.
One thing about the smack, it made Kanye West's rope-a-dope with Taylor Swift appear almost normal. Years ago, Mr. West walked on stage and announced that Taylor Swift’s award should have gone to Beyonce. Go figure.
The only way to overcome such smacking behavior, if there’s ever another Academy Award show, (a dinosaur ripe for burial) is for the Academy to make it a tradition. Each award recipient must give a smack to their presenter.
Arnold Schwarzenegger would receive a drum roll.
Well, that’s Hollywood in its nutshell.
It isn't Ukraine.
It's just celluloid.
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